Just Like Heaven
by NeverMessWithTeddyBears
Summary: He thinks she's a spirit. She thinks she's still alive. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Just Like Heaven**

* * *

 _ **A.N.:**_ **I promised I'd do this, lets see how it goes. Based off the Ruffalo movie of the same name.**

* * *

"This is your fifth mission in less than two weeks, Natasha.", she barely chooses to acknowledge Steve's voice, but she can still hear it ringing in her ears. "You sure you don't wanna sit this one out?"

Natasha chuckles. "And let you have all the fun? Never."

Steve shakes his head. "You know, this much work ain't good for you. You should get some rest, go on vacation somewhere."

"Vacation? Seriously?", she asks him, raising an eyebrow.

Steve shrugs. "Yeah, why not?", he replies. "I heard Fiji's real nice this time of year."

"Then why don't you go? I'm sure Sharon would _love_ to join you.", Natasha teases him while checking her weapons. She had an impressive arsenal. "You could turn it into a romantic getaway.", Steve rolls his eyes and Natasha smiles in brief victory. "Plus, isn't it enough that you already talked me into going on that idiotic blind date?"

Steve nods his head to the side to get a better look at her. "After all those set-ups you did for me, Romanoff, you owe me big time."

"I'm completely capable of finding men on my own.", Natasha adds.

Steve shrugs. "Yeah, but I'd just like you to meet one that's not bleeding."

Natasha ignores the statement. "Who are you setting me up with, anyway?"

"A friend of a friend."

"Seriously? Not even a name?", she inquires. "I always gave you a name."

"Yeah, but wouldn't that kind of ruin the whole concept of a _blind_ date?", it's Natasha's turn to roll her eyes. "And don't act like you wouldn't hack the shit out of the guy in less than five minutes. You'd probably start off the date talking about his finance records."

"Hey, a girl's gotta be prepared.", Natasha replies with a smirk on her lips and Steve shakes his head while tying up his cap.

"Look, Natasha, just go on the date. It's not gonna kill ya.", he steps into the jet to grab his shield just as the pilot yells out that they're okay to jump.

"If it's one of Stark's friends, it just might.", she replies and Steve gives her a look which makes her cross her hands on her chest and give him the best death glare she can muster. "It _is_ one of Tony's friends."

" _Blind_ date, Romanoff.", is the only thing he says before jumping out of the jet without a parachute.

"Country treasure or not, you're a dead man, Rogers.", Natasha mumbles before securing her chute and jumping out as well.

After she kills him, she'll go after Tony.

* * *

Steve uses the hand free of the shield to gesture to a dozen men on behind him. "We'll take that side. Widow, you take the others and secure the back.", he says and Natasha nods even though he can't see her. "Make sure to take all the information you can salvage from those computers. Fury's counting on 'em."

"Don't I always?", she replies and Steve just gives her a look. "On it, Cap.", she then adds, resisting an eye-roll. "Come on, boys and girls, let's get this shit over with.", Natasha orders to the half of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents that ended up on her team and they spread out, covering the back floors. She's done this more time than she could count – especially since she started working under Fury's orders and not the KGB's – and usually her senses aren't on this high of an alert because, dammit, she could do all this blindfolded, but the lack of sleep in the past few weeks is finally getting to her, and Natasha can't help but think how she used to go even longer with a handful of hours of sleep and that all this is just a sign of how long she's been in the spy business.

Well, she _did_ start young.

Natasha shakes the thoughts out of her head. She's got to put her head in the game and get the job done – maybe even set a personal record – and then she can allow herself some rest.

A few soldiers come after her, guns already aimed in her direction, and she takes out her widow bites, ready to sting. Natasha knocks five of them out in the span of twenty seconds, playing with the last remaining one just for a few more minutes, somewhat reminiscent of how a spider plays with its food. Well, Natasha's got to keep true to her name.

"My floor's covered, Captain.", she tells into her earpiece. "I'll start checking the computers now.", she continues towards the computers lined up in the center of the room. The static in her ear tickles softly and she knows Steve's about to reply.

"I've gotten a bit tied up, but you do your magic.", he says and Natasha can almost see him prepare his shield. Maybe he'll even take off the cap, for dramatic effect.

"Take your time, I've got this.", she sets up the memory stick and begins the download, making sure to put an extra virus that will take effect once she's done with collecting all data.

Everything's silent until the download hits 72%, at which Natasha hears a ruffling behind her, maybe two minutes away. She furrows her brows before speaking into her earpiece. The agents she had with her were supposed to secure the hallway, but the noise sure as hell doesn't sound like them. "Why isn't the damn hallway clear?", she yells into the comm. "Someone take care of it!"

She gets no reply.

"Anyone copy?", she speaks again and a slight sense of dread comes over her; not from being left alone, she's done enough solo missions worse than this one, but because she doesn't know just how many people she's lost. And – judging by the silence in her earpiece, they've all been either killed or left immobile.

Natasha prepares her guns and widow bites before giving a glance to her back to check her batons. They're still there and ready, which is convenient since she's getting low on bullets and – depending on the number of men approaching the room – she's about to run out real soon.

About a dozen men enter the room and she looks them over quickly, calculating her odds. Natasha smirks, then before speaking up, her guns at the ready. "Hello, fellas.", she says and steps forward. "Any last words?"

She doesn't let them answer and instead simply starts shooting, taking three of them down. She lets go of the one gun that ran empty and moves the other to her dominant hand, even though she's equally as good of a shot on both hands. She uses the widow bite on the other arm as well, until she runs out of bullets on the one gun she had left. For a moment, she thinks of using the guns strapped to her thighs only to remember that those are only night night guns, and she already almost used all their power on the way to the room.

"Shit.", she whispers before grabbing the batons on her back and extracting them with a jolt. She nods her head to the side as about another five men come towards her. She's got them almost all down when she can hear the slight sound that announces a completed download. She takes care of the two men left – leaving them unconscious on the floor – before she moves to grab the stick, planning to then just make her way out and find Steve.

She turns around to take the stick and when she takes it out and puts it in her pocket, she smiles. But, before she can turn back and head to the door, a gunshot fills the air. And then another, and another. She thought she got them all – she was _sure_. They were all on the floor, they were all immobile. She fucked up.

She fucked up and now she had half a dozen bullet holes in her abdomen. Her suit didn't protect her well enough, and she's sure the bullets that managed to find their way into her body were currently doing irreparable damage.

"Natasha!", Steve's voice fills her ears as she goes to stumble to the ground, managing to hold herself up only a while longer, her strength already going away.

Steve knocks out the shooter with his shield before the asshole can shoot him and then makes a beeline for Natasha, whose body is about to hit the floor. He catches her, and she can see he really did take off the cap.

Well, he always did have a soft spot for the dramatics.

"Get an extraction team in here, now!", Steve yells into his comm. "Black Widow is down. I repeat, Black Widow is down. She's in need of medical assistance.", he then stops yelling and turns to face her. She knows what she's supposed to do; keep her eyes open, make sure to stay awake and _not_ let the fatigue take over, but right now..

Maybe that vacation came earlier that she thought.


	2. Chapter 2

"What the fuck happened there, Rogers?!", Clint's yells spread across the hallways of the hospital with force.

Steve shakes his head. "I don't know, okay? We had it under control-"

"If you had it under control then this shit wouldn't have happened, now, would it?!"

Steve stands up from his seat. "What do you want me to say, huh?", he yells back. "I hate that this happened as much as you do. But it did. And she's in that hospital bed, in a coma, and we have to deal with it.", Clint runs a hand through his hair and lets out a long, tired sigh. "It's all on her now, and she's gonna get through this."

"Yeah.", Clint says, sitting down. "Nat's a fighter."

Steve nods and sits back down on his chair. He looks at the archer opposite of him and tries to send him a reassuring look. "Are Laura and the kids coming?"

Clint nods. He visibly calms at the mention of his wife and kids. "Yeah, they're about to land any second now. We still haven't figured out what to tell them, though.", he adds. "How do you even start? ' _Hey, Auntie Nat's in a coma, she might not wake up, so you gotta say goodbye_ '-"

"She's gonna wake up, Clint."

"I just-", Clint says. His eyes look so tired, as if he hasn't slept in ages. "I don't wanna lie to my kids. But.. how do I tell them this?"

"You and Laura will figure it out.", Steve reassures him. "You're great parents. Whatever you tell them, it'll be the best thing you could."

Clint opens his mouth to respond – probably to mutter a thank you because, _dammit_ , Rogers always knows what to say – but he gets cut off by his phone ringing. He takes it out of his pocket, looking at the caller ID.

"I – uh –", he sends Steve an apologetic look. "I gotta get this; it's Laura."

Steve nods. "Yeah, sure. Of course."

A small smile finds its way to Clint's face as he answers the call. "Hey, honey. You landed yet?", a pause. Steve can barely hear Laura responding. "The kids okay?"

Clint leaves the hallway. Steve gets up and takes one more look through the hospital window into the room where Natasha was lying on the bed, tubes all around her.

God, Natasha hated hospitals. Steve knew she hated looking weak more than anything.

"Just hang in there.", he whispers and leaves.

* * *

They walk up the few flights of stairs in comfortable silence which Bruce welcomes wholeheartedly. Anyone who knows him knows he's not much of a talker, as he tends to stay closed off and keep to himself. And although Tony might ignore that most of the time ( _all_ the time, actually), Pepper lets him have his space which Bruce finds extremely refreshing after weeks spent at the tower.

"I appreciate all that you're doing, Pepper, really.", he tells her as they come to a halt in front of the door that Bruce assumes lead to the new apartment he'd be staying in.

Pepper looks back at him while unlocking the door and smiles. "It's no problem, Bruce. Honestly.", she says and he manages to return her smile with an awkward one of his own. The door opens and she lets him walk in first.

He takes his time to look around, walking from one room to the other before settling in the living room. The interior of the apartment is pretty open, and he likes the spacious kitchen and dining room area although he knows he won't be using it much in the future.

It's not like he plans on staying here long, anyway.

"It's a sublet, just like you wanted. Month-by-month lease.", Pepper says as she follows him to the living room. "It comes with all the furniture."

Bruce nods. "I like the couch.", he says, sitting down.

"You like the couch?", Pepper gives a small chuckle. "Okay."

"How come this place is even available?", Bruce asks. It's a great location, and the apartment itself seems brand new; as if it was hardly ever used. "Where are the owners?"

Pepper checks her tablet for a moment before answering. "The house has been on the market for about three months.. Says here there was an accident.", Pepper says and Bruce nods. "The family is keeping the loft under lease for a bit longer. Who knows, you might end up with a shot at owning this place.", she finishes, putting her tablet back into her bag.

Bruce raises from the couch and does some more exploring throughout the apartment. He finds stairs leading up and decides to follow them, ending up in an attic. Although, ' _attic_ ' doesn't seem quite the accurate description for the room; it's spacious and filled with light, courtesy of the windows than span from the roof to the floor on three sides of the room. Bruce moves forwards to the windows, and looks out. The view is magnificent and breathtaking, and Bruce finds it oddly calming.

"It comes with the place.", Pepper adds and Bruce can hear the smile in her voice. "I figured you'd like it. It would make a great private yoga studio.", she says with a wink and Bruce chuckles.

"Yeah, I don't think I'm gonna do that.", Bruce replies. "It's.. amazing.", he says after a few moments of silence, still looking out the window.

Behind him, Bruce can hear ruffling and turns around to see Pepper taking out a pair of keys out of her bag. "I'll have a messenger send you the papers, if you want to sign them.", she pauses as if waiting for confirmation.

Bruce nods. "Yeah.. Yes, I'll take this place.", he answers. "Month-by-month, right?"

"Yup.", Pepper responds, popping the ' _p_ '. She proceeds to hand him the keys. "I'll also have someone bring over your bags – not that you have a lot of stuff, but still.", he takes the keys from her, but she keeps hold on his hand for a while longer, trying to catch his eyes with her own. "You sure you don't want to stay at Stark Tower?", she asks and Bruce fights the urge to roll his eyes. "There's plenty of room.."

Bruce gives a small smile. "No, Pepper. But thank you.", he answers. "I'd rather have my own space, keep some distance."

Pepper crosses her arms on her chest. "Bruce, if this is about-"

"It's _not_ about the Other Guy.", he cuts her off. "Really."

Pepper nods, although not quite believing him. "You won't hurt us, Bruce. You shouldn't be scared."

"I'm _not_..", Bruce pauses and sighs. He shakes his head. "I'm doing this for myself. Because this is something I want. Peace, relaxation.. Being alone.", he ends, sending her a sympathetic look. He doesn't want her to think he dislikes spending time with her and Tony – he doesn't, really – but he's an introvert. He needs his own space.

Plus, he lied. The Hulk _did_ have a play in this. Bruce doesn't want to hurt them. And although Stark Tower is highly equipped, Bruce prefers peace and there's hardly ever any when you're around Tony Stark.

Pepper smiles in understanding, and Bruce relaxes. "Okay. Just... if you ever need anything, Tony and I are a phone call away. Less, even!"

He walks her to the door and steps out of his comfort zone by accepting her hug.

"Call. Anytime.", she says before pulling out of the embrace. "Please."

"I will.", he promises and he knows it's one he'll try to keep. "Now, go before Tony gets jealous. I don't need Iron Man wrecking this place before I even move in."

Pepper laughs and turns to leave with a roll of her eyes. "See you later, Dr. Banner!"

"Yeah..", he sighs, closing the door. "See you later."

He returns to sit on the couch.

* * *

According to his calculations, Bruce knows he hasn't slept in thirty-eight hours. Bruce also knows he has about ten more before he downright collapses from exhaustion, so he decides to make the most out of the time he's got left.

The fatigue he's feeling is slowly beginning to show in his body functions, so he steps away from the small living room coffee table which he filled with as much paperwork as he could and he heads to the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.

A yawn escapes him as he turns on the coffee machine and he leans onto the kitchen table before yawning once again. He should probably just go and head to sleep now, but the promise of a restless night filled with nightmares that have been visiting him regularly over the past few years doesn't really appeal to him much.

He probably does doze off for a moment or two, though, but he jolts awake as the coffee machine alarm sounds that the pot has finished brewing. He pours the coffee into the biggest cup he could find and makes his way back to the living room.

He takes a seat on the couch and clears up a few of the papers, making place for the cup. He sets it down and prepares to continue the paperwork when –

"Ever heard of a coaster?", a voice says behind him and Bruce jumps in surprise. His pulse starts racing, and he takes a few deep breaths to calm himself. The Other Guy doesn't pose a threat, because if he couldn't handle a small startle, then Stark Tower would've crashed and burned ages ago.

Not seeing anyone behind him, Bruce turns around only to see a woman standing there. "Oh my God!", he lets out a yell of surprise. "How the hell did you get in here?!"

"Well,", the woman starts. "this _is_ my apartment."

Bruce pauses, his brows furrowing in confusion. "I'm sorry, I think there's been a mix-up.", he answers, trying to keep his voice and breathing calm. "I rented this apartment maybe a week ago."

The redhead shakes her head and smiles. "No, I'm.. I'm pretty sure I live here."

Bruce shakes his head. "Look, let's take it easy and figure this out, okay?", he says and the woman nods. "What's your name?"

"My name?", the woman pauses, as if she's struggling to remember. She looks around the room, her red hair falling to frame her face, before her eyes settle on his cup of coffee. "Natasha.", the woman finally responds. "My name's Natasha."

Her eyes are still fixated on the cup at the coffee table, and as Bruce takes a glance at it, he finally notices ' _Auntie Natasha_ ' written on it in child handwriting, multiple spiders covering the empty space around the name as well. Bruce recognises a few as black widows.

"You read that!", he exclaims and Natasha looks at him with a raised eyebrow. "You couldn't remember your name so you read it off the cup."

"I _didn't_ -"

"Who are you?", he cuts her off and Natasha pauses. She looks at him, her eyes locking with his and he can see a glimmer of confusion in them.

"I don't remember.", she says after a few moments of silence.

Then – just as she came – she's gone.

Bruce looks around the room once, twice, three times before putting his head in his hands. He rubs his face before running a hand through his dark hair that's already started to go a bit grey.

"I'm going insane.", he says to himself. What the hell was in that coffee? "I need sleep."

He heads to the bedroom and closes the door behind him before collapsing on the bed.

Yes, sleep is _exactly_ what he needs.


	3. Chapter 3

"Why are you still here?", she appears right in front of him, causing Bruce to spill half the tea he had in his cup. They're standing between the kitchen and the living room, where Bruce was heading to get some more work done.

The stack of papers on the coffee table keeps growing and Bruce is considering to maybe invest in a proper desk, because being hunched over that little table while sitting on the couch (which is – although incredibly comfortable – not really suited for this kind of work) definitely isn't good for his back.

"You've got to stop showing up like this.", he says, moving past her and taking a seat on the couch. He puts the cup of tea down on the living room table but this time he uses a coaster. He can swear there was a small smile on her face. "I'll die from a heart-attack."

Natasha nods, as if she's considering that as an option. "Well, if that would get me my apartment back, then showing up when you least expect it sounds pretty tempting."

He chooses to ignore that statement. "Look, _Natasha_ ,", he stretches out her name as if he isn't even sure that is her real name, and Natasha can't help but feel like that tone of voice is something she hears often. "why are you here?"

"Because this is my apartment."

"No.", he says, shaking his head. "Why are you _here_? Is there some unfinished business you have to do? Something I could help you with?", he continues and she just looks at him, her brows furrowed. "Maybe there's an ex you want to say ' _fuck off_ ' to one last time or – I don't know – maybe there's some mail you didn't read? Or-"

She cuts him off. "Why do you keep talking like that?"

Bruce looks up at her. "Like what?"

"Like I'm-", she pauses, looking for the word.

"Dead?", Bruce suggests. Natasha nods, her eyebrows raised and her arms crossed on her chest. Bruce chuckles. "Because you _are_ , Natasha."

Natasha laughs, shaking her head. "I'm _not_ dead!", she says, taking a few steps closer to him.

"You are."

"I think I'd know if I were dead.", she responds, taking another step in his direction.

There's silence.

"Natasha..", he says, his voice barely louder than a whisper, and he's looking at the coffee table.

Or – more accurately – he's looking at where her right leg is going _through_ the coffe table.

Natasha pauses and looks down. She quickly moves away, taking as many steps backwards as she can just to get away from him. Instinctively, she reaches to the back of a small cupboard in the corner of the living room. She doesn't know what she'll find there – her brain somehow doesn't want her to remember – but still, she knows that it's something she has to do. Something that comes natural.

Although, as she goes to grab for whatever it is she wants to grab, her hand disappears into the cupboard; going through the wooden surface as if it is nothing. As if it's a shadow.

Or maybe _she_ 's the shadow.

Natasha involuntarily gasps, before looking back at Bruce who's still sitting on the couch. "I'm not dead.", is the last thing she says, a hidden note in her voice showing that she doesn't quite believe that statement herself. Then, she's gone.

Bruce deeply sighs, before deciding to get off the couch and go to the cupboard in the corner that Natasha was desperately reaching towards just moments before. He moves it away from the wall just for an inch more so his hand can fit through, and he lets his hand search the back of the cupboard. A few seconds pass before his fingers collide with something and Bruce takes the object, returning the cupboard back againt the wall before seeing what it was he found.

It's a knife.

"What the hell?", Bruce whipers, going back to sit on the couch and not taking his eyes off the knife.

Bruce Banner is a scientist and, as a scientist, he believes in facts over anything else. But, Bruce Banner is also a guy that once treated the Norse god of thunder for his injuries while staying in Stark Tower, and he is also a guy who turns into a giant green rage monster when he loses his cool; Bruce believes in all facts, even those that might not seem as such.

So, as he's looking at the knife in his hands, Bruce Banner knows for a fact that he's dealing with the spirit of a woman who used to live in this apartment.

But is she _dead_?

Honestly, he's not really sure of that anymore.

* * *

"What's up, Banner?", the voice comes before an image and Bruce's eyes are already preparing to do a roll because this is Tony Stark talking, and about eighty percent of anything that comes out of his mouth is worthy of an eye-roll. "You calling to cry about how much you miss me? How much that apartment sucks? Oh, does it have a leaking roof? Well, I told you you're always welcome back to live here."

" _Tony_ -", Bruce tries to interrupt him, but Tony ignores him.

"Although you should know that I still haven't forgiven you for stooding up that date I set you up on."

"I didn't-"

"You totally did.", Tony cuts him off. "Steve and I were counting on you, man."

"I don't need a date, Tony.", Bruce sighs. "I _don't_ date."

"Everyone dates!", Tony says. "You just haven't in a while."

"Anyways; I've kind of been.. _seeing_ someone."

"Didn't you just say you don't date?", a smirk comes on Tony's lips and Bruce regrets video calling him in the first place. Seeing Tony's smug face is worse than just hearing the cockyness in his voice. He should've stuck with calling him on the phone. Or better yet, not calling him at all.

"It's not a dating thing, Tony.", Bruce groans. "I'm seeing someone that's... not really there."

"What, like crazy? Let me tell you, I've had my fair share of crazy-"

"Tony, I think my house is haunted by a spirit."

Tony chuckles, raising an eyebrow. "A spirit? Seriously."

"Mmm-hmm.", Bruce nods. "She keeps claiming how this is her apartment, and that she's not dead and-"

"Oh, so it's a _she_.", Tony says, seemingly having ignored everything else that came out of Bruce's mouth. "Attractive?"

Bruce rolls his eyes. "Not really there, Tony."

Tony move his hand dismissivly. "Technicalities.", he says. "What do you know about her?"

"Not much. And out of what I _do_ know, I'm not even sure it's true at all."

"Look, Banner, I think you've just worked yourself out a bit too much.", he says. "You're tired, probably experiencing hallucinations obviously influenced by your deep regret of not fulfilling your promise to me and ditching that date; which is why you keep seeing an attractive woman in your apartment.", Bruce goes to open his mouth to respond but Tony cuts him off. "Take an aspirin, go to sleep. Maybe take a vacation. I've heard Fiji's real nice."

"Since when did you become a therapist?"

Tony shurgs. "I've got the time.", he says. "And the temperament.", he adds and Bruce laughs. Then, he hears something loud and realises that Tony's probably in the lab. "Gotta go, Bruce. If I break this lab, Pepper won't let me use another one.", he pauses. "Maybe I should take _her_ to Fiji.", he says absent-mindedly before cutting off the connection.

Bruce sighs, closing his laptop.

"So, you think I'm attractive?", Natasha suddenly appears next to him, leaning on the couch. Her lips are insanely close to his ear, and he can feel a cold wind.

" _Jesus Christ_!", he yells out in surprise. He manages to keep his heartbeat under control, but too many of these vists and he might just hulk-out.

He'd rather have a heart-attack.

"I prefer _Natasha_.", she smirks.

Bruce groans, stuffing his face in a pillow. He almost misses Tony.

* * *

He's gotten used to not expecting her visits, which in hindsight means that he _does_ expect her visits, meaning that he doesn't get as much of a fright as he did the first couple of times.

So, the eight time she appears, Bruce barely even flinches.

"Not giving up, huh?", Natasha says, her lips curled up into a half-smile. It's like she finds all this almost entertaining.

Bruce shrugs, not looking away from his tablet. He's lying on the bed, which even she finds unusual. Most of the times, she finds him working himself to death, but now it's as if he's going to sleep at a somewhat decent time. "I could say the same for you.", he says and she nods in agreement.

"Well, if I'm one thing then I'm persistent."

"Guess that took you places."

Natasha takes a seat on the bottom of the bed, looking at the wall opposite her. "Honestly? I wouldn't know."

She can hear some noise behind her, and guesses it might be Bruce setting down his tablet. When she sneaks a look back, he's turned to face her. "You still don't remember anything?", he asks, and there's genuine concern in his voice.

She thinks about what to do for a moment. Natasha doesn't feel comfortable sharing personal information; feelings, thoughts, emotions.. But, there's not really much she _can_ share, because she really doesn't remember a thing.

"So, I'm dead, huh?", she says, looking down at her hands. "Who would've thought?"

"Hey,", his voice comes out as a whisper. "don't say that. We don't know for sure."

"You've said it yourself. Plus, I go through things. Shouldn't that be enough to prove a point?", she says, trying to be as rational as possible. He stays silent and she turns to face him completely. "There used to be a picture on that cupboard.", she adds, trying to change the subject and nods towards the cupboard on his side of the bed and his eyes follow hers.

"It was empty when I got here.", he answers and she nods. It makes sense that they'd clear out her apartment after she died. "Do you remember what the picture was of?", Bruce asks her and she tries to remember – she really does – but her mind comes up blank.

"Do all ghosts tend to go through an identity crisis?", she asks, trying to turn it into a joke.

"I wouldn't know, you're my first.", Bruce replies. "Look, Tasha-"

"Don't call me ' _Tasha_ '.", she cuts him off. "We're not in kindergarten."

"Sorry, _Natasha_.", he apologises. "We'll figure this out, okay? We'll go ask around tomorrow, maybe there's someone that knew you; a neighbour. They'll be able to tell us more."

Natasha looks at him, eyebrows furrowed. "Why do you want to help me?"

Bruce shrugs. "I don't know.", he answers honestly.

Natasha disappears.


	4. Chapter 4

Bruce is pretty sure he's losing his mind, but Natasha hasn't.. _appeared_ in almost a week and to be honest he's getting a bit worried; which in itself sounds ridiculous because she's a spirit and what could even happen to a _spirit_? - so he's decided to ask help from the one person Bruce thinks might actually know about something of this nature.

He's decided to ask a god.

"Why the sudden interest in spirits, sir Banner?", Thor asks, his strong voice carrying through the room. "With all due respect I would never have pegged you – a man of science – to be interested in such things."

"A month ago I wouldn't have been.", Bruce answers. He feels tiny next to Thor, but decides that's probably a feeling everyone has when in the presence of the Norse god. "Lets just say that since then I've had some... experiences that have caused me to change my opinion and maybe realize that there are things in this world science can't explain no matter how hard it tries."

Thor laughs and Bruce thinks the Earth might just start shaking. "You're a smart man, Dr. Banner.", he says. "But I'm afraid I cannot be of much help."

Bruce's hope falls. "So, there's no... summoning spells or chants or..", he feels incredibly silly asking these questions, but he's said to hell with it even before he started talking to Thor. The god of thunder shrugs and Bruce nods, sighing. "Yeah.."

"She _will_ appear, my friend.", Thor says, his voice light with hope Bruce seems to be losing and he puts a comforting hand on Bruce's shoulder. "I can feel her soul tethered to yours. A kindred spirit.", he replies and although it's all a bit too much for Bruce to believe, he listens to the Asgardian, anyway. "Do not let your hope leave you."

"Thank you.", Bruce replies before heading to leave and Thor says goodbye as he gives him one last reassuring pat on the shoulder.

* * *

He walks into the apartment, leaves his things by the door and suddenly decides to go up to the attic. He doesn't think about it much, instead simply letting his legs lead him where he needs to go.

Bruce finds her there. She's walking around, not even noticing him – probably just too focused on trying to jog her memory and remember something, even the slightest detail – and a part of Bruce wonders if Thor really had something to do with this or if it was just a coincidence.

"You're here.", he says, trying not to sound too excited but failing as her lips curl into a light smirk.

Natasha decides not to tease him, if only this once. "You know, I bought this place for the attic.", she says as Bruce walks closer to her, joining her by the long windows. His eyes follow hers and he's as taken away by the view this time as he was when he first came up here weeks ago with Pepper.

Bruce smiles. "I can see why.", he says.

Natasha nods. "I wanted to turn it into a ballet studio. Just for me.", she explains, her voice getting lower with each word.

Bruce looks around, letting himself imagine a beautiful ballet studio in place of the big, empty attic. After a few moments he looks back at Natasha, only to find her still looking out the window. He can see her reflection in it, but her face is hard to read. She keeps her emotions hidden and Bruce wonders if she ever grows tired of always keeping everything bottled up inside.

He knows better than to ask.

"I took this place for the couch.", he says instead and Natasha turns around, one eyebrow raised. "Although, if someone told me the apartment came with a ghost attached, I would've probably thought twice before signing the papers."

"You wound me.", Natasha says in mock offense.

Bruce laughs. "I probably would've taken it, anyway. The couch really is amazing. Does wonders for my _chi_."

"Well,", Natasha says, "for a guy avoiding stress you picked a hell of a place to settle."

He shrugs. "Avoiding stress isn't the secret."

"Then what is it?", she asks. "Yoga?"

Bruce chuckles. "You know, a friend of mine suggested I turn this attic into a personal yoga studio."

"Blasphemy!", Natasha mocks. "Would've been a waste of an attic."

Bruce raises his arms in defense. "Don't worry, I hated the suggestion as much as you do. I try to be zen, but not _that_ zen."

"Any special reason for that?"

He considers his answer for a moment. "Anger issues."

"Wouldn't peg you as the type."

A light bitterness creeps into Bruce's small laugh. "You'd be surprised.", he says and silence falls over them again. He looks back out the window. "The sun's getting real low."

Natasha takes one more look around the room and then glances back at Bruce. "Come on, lets go.", she says. "We've got doors to knock on, people to interrogate.", she says and he laughs once again – this time without the tone of bitterness – and where she simply goes through the closed door, he stops to open it before walking out.

"Just a regular day at the office, then?", Bruce yells after her.

He hears her laugh and it makes his heart jump the slightest.

* * *

After ten doors closed in front of their faces – well, mostly just Bruce's, because it's not like anyone even sees Natasha standing there – and different echoes of " _Wait, someone lived in that apartment?!_ ", they both felt ready to call it a day.

But, before that, they still had one more door to go through.

"Eleventh time's the charm?", Bruce offers as a weak encouragement before knocking on the door. There's a few moments of silence and he starts to think that the apartment's empty, and that they should maybe come back later.

He's about to tell Natasha they should go, when the doors open.

"Sorry it took so long.", the woman says, smiling. "How can I help you?"

Bruce takes a deep breath, sending a prayer up to a god he doesn't believe in to give him at least some information. It's been a long day.

"Hello.", Bruce says, trying to sound casual. "I'm Bruce. I just moved into number 12 and I've just been wondering if maybe you know something about the woman that used to live there?", he asks and the woman pauses to think. "Natasha?", he offers.

The woman shakes her head. "No Natasha than I can think of.", she says.

Bruce sighs, letting his shoulders fall in defeat and although Natasha keeps a tight rein on her emotions, he knows she might be disappointed as well. He's about to thank the woman and go, when she starts talking again.

"Although, there was a Natalie.", she says and Bruce looks up at her in surprise, glancing subtly at Natasha, eyebrows furrowing with confusion. Natasha shrugs. "Rushman, I think was the last name. Not sure though.", the woman continues, leaning into her door frame and crossing her arms. "She wasn't around that much, to be honest.", she says. "I talked to her once; asked her if she maybe worked as a stewardess – you know, it'd explain all the traveling, not being in and such – and she said it was something like that. Seemed nice.", the woman smiles and Bruce mirrors it. "That's about it."

"Thank you, I appreciate your help.", Bruce says and shakes the woman's hand in gratitude. "Really."

"No problem.", she replies, but Bruce already turned to go.

Hearing the doors shut, he turns to Natasha. " _Natalie Rushman_ , huh?", he asks and Natasha shrugs. "Assuming Natasha really _is_ your true name, why would you need to use an alias?"

As Bruce searches through his pockets for the keys, Natasha replies. "Well, I can tell you one thing; I _definitely_ wasn't a stewardess.", she says and Bruce chuckles at the tone of her voice.

"Dammit!", he says, searching through his pockets again.

Natasha moves to his left, leaning against the wall. Surprisingly, she doesn't fall though. "What's wrong?"

"I – _uh_.. I locked my key into the apartment.", he replies as if asking a question.

Natasha shakes her head, a light smile on her lips. "There's a spare under the fire extinguisher.", she replies and he goes to look.

His eyebrows lift in surprise as he examines the spare key. "Nice hiding place. Very original.", he says a bit sarcastically as he goes to unlock the door and she shrugs.

"What can I say; I'm a simple girl."

Bruce nods his head in agreement as they enter the apartment. He shuts the door behind him and then heads to the kitchen, grabbing himself a soda from the top shelf of the fridge. He searches around for a bottle opener until she tells him there's one in the third drawer. Bruce sends her a grateful smile.

"So, what's plan B?", he asks her, leaning against the kitchen counter.

Natasha sighs. "Nothing we can do today.", she says. "It's late. You should go to bed."

Bruce nods in agreement. Sleep really was a good idea. "Do spirits sleep?", he asks her and she thinks it over.

"I don't know.", she says. "If I'm not here with you.. I'm not really sure what I do. It's like everything becomes this big blur.", Natasha pauses. "I don't like it.", she adds as an afterthought.

Bruce laughs. "It must suck, doesn't it?"

"Yeah.", she sighs.

He goes silent, as if he's thinking whether or not to say something. She waits until he does. "I envy you sometimes.", he says, not looking at her and suddenly fighting his soda bottle much more interesting.

She furrows her eyebrows "Why?"

Bruce shrugs. "For selfish reasons mostly.", he gives a vague answer, and she can't leave it at that.

"And what would those be?"

He stays silent for a while before he puts the bottle down on the kitchen counter and goes to leave the room, probably heading to his bed. Before he leaves the kitchen, he turns around at the door and looks at her, his eyed filled with something Natasha recognizes as a mix of deep grief and self-hatred.

"If I were dead, I wouldn't be able to hurt anyone.", he says. With one hand he pats the kitchen door frame and then leaves, his step echoing through the hallway.

Natasha doesn't move.

* * *

He doesn't know how long he's been sleeping before the nightmares set in. He knows the routine and tries to wake himself up, but this one is one of those bad ones. The ones that cover him in sweat and make his insides clench and he feels like he's about to throw up but he can't wake up – no matter how bad he tries, he just _can't_ – and there's nothing left for him except to live through the memory that's haunting him in his sleep; the memory that his brain has decided on this time.

As he's living the dream, he can feel his hands shaking and his entire body burning as if his blood is on fire. He recognizes the feeling and his pulse races, his blood pressure rising through the roof.

He's changing. The Other Guy is taking over.

 _Hulk_.

"Bruce!", he can hear a faint sound but the memory is stronger, taking over his senses completely. "Bruce, wake up! It's just a dream. ", the voice continues and suddenly he can see her, standing right in front of him as if he isn't able to kill her without breaking a sweat. He looks down and his hands are green – everything around him is, as far as he can see. Except her hair. Her hair is red like fire and he tries to focus on it, focus on her voice. Focus on not hurting her. "You're gonna be okay. You have to fight it."

And he does.

The hold the dream has on him loosens and he can feel something on his cheek, a type of cold wind. He lets that guide him, lets that drag him back to reality. A cold breeze goes through his hair as well, ruffling it.

He opens his eyes, jumping up in bed and Natasha manages to move before he ends up going through her.

He takes a seat at the edge of the bed, letting his feet touch the cold floor. He's shaking like he has a high fever but otherwise doesn't move, instead just sitting there, his eyes focused on something ahead.

"Bruce..", Natasha calls out, her voice low as she crouches in front of him.

Bruce tears his eyes away from the wall and looks into her green orbs, knowing quite well his now shared the same color; except where hers had a natural beauty, his were those brought on by a sickness. His eyes weren't _his_.

She doesn't back away from him, instead she keeps her eyes locked onto his and she lifts one of her hands.

"We're okay.", she says, her hand still raised as if she's waiting his to join. "Right?"

Bruce looks at her hand for a moment before lifting his own up, his arms now a fading green, his veins visible. He brings it as close as he can without actually touching her – knowing that his hand will go right through hers if they do touch – and they stand like that for a moment as Natasha watches his eyes change their color from the bright green to Bruce's natural brown.

They stay like that for a beat or two longer before Bruce lets his hand fall, getting up from the bed and passing Natasha.

"A nightmare?", she asks but he stays silent as he searches through his closet for something to wear, picking up the first things that his hands find. He puts his clothes on quickly – all the while not looking at Natasha – and the silence that surrounds them is almost deafening.

He unexpectedly breaks it, though, as his (now brown) eyes finally connect with hers. "A memory.", he replies to her question and Natasha nods in understanding.

She gets up and takes a few steps closer to him. "Lets go take a walk.", she says and leaves the room.

Bruce follows her out. He can still feel where her hand touched his cheek earlier, passing through it slightly and the feeling brings him an odd sense of comfort.

For the first time in a while, he feels calm.


	5. Chapter 5

"I don't want to talk about it.", is the first thing he says after they've been sitting on the park bench for a little over an hour in silence. It's maybe nine in the morning, and the park is half-full with children, dogs and morning joggers. It's crowded, but not enough to cause Bruce anxiety. He's got his body under control for now, and he knows that – at this moment, at least – he is not a threat.

Although, he could be at any minute. Bruce tries not to think about that.

Natasha shrugs. "I'm not gonna ask, don't worry.", she says, sending him a look. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah..", Bruce sighs. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just..", he pauses, not knowing whether to continue or not.

She prompts him. "What?", her voice is soft and he almost answers truthfully, but ends up changing the subject.

"You know, for someone going on a walk we sure aren't doing much walking.", he says, getting up and throwing away the plastic cup with a bit of coffee left he bought at the stand in front of his building into the trash. "Lets go."

She follows him. "You know, you can't keep all this bottled up inside forever. It's not good for your health."

Bruce puts his hands in his pockets. "Maybe not forever, but I can keep it bottled up right now and that's what I'm doing."

"You're gonna cause yourself a heart-attack."

He shrugs. "Yeah, well, the Other Guy's been through worse."

"The ' _Other Guy_ ', huh?", Natasha raises an eyebrow.

"Hulk, actually.", he replies, turning around to face her. "And with that, I'm ending this conversation."

Natasha nods. She's silent for a few seconds before she speaks up again. " _Hulk_.. Sounds familiar."

"Probably from the news.", Bruce chuckles bitterly. "The last time I was in New York I kind of broke Harlem."

"Really? Impressive.", she replies. "I can't wait to remember that."

"That makes one of us.", he answers and Natasha decides to drop the subject. The tone of Bruce's voice is filled with something Natasha recognizes as guilt, but his face betrays no emotions as he continues to walk, putting one leg in front of the other.

They walk the other two blocks in relative silence, passing more and more people as the morning passes and the city begins to wake up (not that it ever fully slept). Knowing she lived in the neighborhood, Natasha keeps her senses on alert as she looks around her, hoping that maybe something would jog her memory and have her remember her life.

Walking further down the street, a light melody finds its way to Natasha's ears and after a moment's thought, she recognizes it as a piece from Tchaikovsky's Shchelkunchik. She pauses in her step, listening for a bit longer as something from the back of her mind starts finding its way to her, a distant memory becoming clearer.

 _I am one of twenty-eight young_ -

"Can you hear that?", she whispers against the flash of a memory and Bruce stops walking, turning around to face her with a puzzled expression. "The music.", she explains and Bruce pauses, focusing his hearing on the light sound coming from not far away.

Bruce nods. " _Natasha_..", he calls out to her, his voice low but she's lost in her memories; not much different from the way Bruce was lost in his own earlier.

 _I am one of twenty-eight young ballerinas with the Bolshoi. The training is hard, but the glory of the Soviet culture, and the warmth of my parents makes up for_ -

Natasha shakes her head. _No, that's not right... It's not right.._

"Natasha, are you okay?", Bruce walks closer to her and goes to grab her by the shoulders, only to remember his hands would just go through. He tries to catch her eyes instead. "Are you remembering?"

"It's not right..", she says, her voice a whisper and he almost doesn't catch her words. She shakes her head again, looking up at Bruce. "Not right."

Tearing her eyes from his concerned look, Natasha goes to follow the music before it fades. She hurries her step, turning the corner and she can hear Bruce calling after her as he tries to catch up. She doesn't stop walking until the music becomes louder, and she is standing in front of a dance studio. The outside glass gives a slight look inside and Natasha sees a young woman – a ballerina – dancing on pointe. For a second, Natasha sees herself instead of the woman as a memory takes hold of her. She tries to shake it off, but instead it just changes. Natasha isn't dancing ballet anymore; instead, she's looking at a figure of a man with a bag on his face, and she's holding a gun to his head.

 _I am one of twenty-eight Black Widow agents with the Red Room. The training is hard, but the glory of Soviet Supremacy... and the warmth... the warmth_ -

 _No... no, it's not right!_

She hears Bruce's steps behind her as he finally comes to a stop at her left, her eyes looking at her with concern. "Nat-"

"Romanoff.", she says, finally looking up at him. "My name. Natasha Romanoff."

Bruce looks at her, surprise written in his features. "You remember.", it's equally a statement and a question.

Natasha nods.

"Is there anything else you-"

"I work for S.H.I.E.L.D..", she cuts him off, answering before he could finish the question.

Bruce smiles a smile she can't figure out the meaning of. "Today must be your lucky day, then."

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion. "Why?"

Bruce looks up at the dance studio, looking away from Natasha. "Because I work for S.H.I.E.L.D., too."

* * *

They don't talk until they're back at the apartment. Bruce closes the door behind him and then heads straight for the living room, taking off his jacket and setting it messily on the couch. He takes out his laptop.

"What are you doing?", she asks him and Bruce pauses his movements to look at her closely. She looks worn out, as if the memories have somehow made her tired and for a moment Bruce wonders what kind of demons she has to hide. Then, he goes back to work.

"Well, you don't live with Tony Stark and not pick up a few things.", he replies and the name mentioned sounds oddly familiar to her, but she's too busy worrying about the previous memories that she can't find it in herself to try and find out where she knows the name from. Her memories are returning slowly, and she feels like she needs one final push before it all comes back to her.

And what is that final push?

"You're trying to find my body.", she says and it's more of a statement than a question. Bruce answers with a nod, anyway. "And how exactly do you plan to do that?", she asks.

Bruce shrugs. "Like, I said; I picked up a few things.", he says. "I'm going to hack into S.H.I.E.L.D. records."

Natasha looks at him in disbelief. "Are you insane? Do you know how heavily guarded that is? Breaking the firewall alone would take you days – if not _weeks_ – even if I _do_ manage to remember the passwords-"

"Well, it's not hard if someone's already done it.", he says and Natasha stops her ranting. She crosses her arms and waits for Bruce to explain. "Tony does it at least once a week. He calls it an exercise.", he continues. "All _I_ have to do is hack into his computer. And hacking isn't that hard if you know all the passwords.", he finishes and then return his attention to the laptop.

He types in silence for a few minutes before Natasha speaks. "All of his passwords are ' _Pepper_ '?"

"Shocking, I know.", Bruce replies dryly and Natasha laughs. "Okay.", he says as he finished logging onto Stark's computer and getting into S.H.I.E.L.D. files. "We're in."

"Nice work.", Natasha compliments, a hint of a smile on her lips.

"Thank you, I try.", Bruce replies. "So, what am I looking for?", he asks.

"My files.", Natasha replies. "Try Natalia Alianovna Romanova."

Bruce types it in. "Russian?", he asks and Natasha nods.

"Da.", she says with a wink. Bruce can feel his cheeks heating up so he looks away, keeping his eyes only on the laptop screen.

"Got it.", he mentions after a few moments. "It's your employee file. You've got quite a resume, I'm impressed."

"Well, I aim to please.", Natasha replies. "Does it say anything about my current status?"

"Yup.", Bruce says, popping the ' _p_ '. "It says you've been hospitalized.", he says and a sense of relief comes over Natasha.

Hospitalized. Not deceased.

"The hospital's written here.", Bruce says. "I know it, it's in the area."

"I don't think their password is ' _Pepper_ '.", Natasha says as Bruce goes to hack the hospital files.

Bruce laughs. "It's gonna take me a while, but I _will_ find you, Natasha.", he says, looking up at her. "I promise."

Natasha gives him a small smile. "You said you work for S.H.I.E.L.D..", she says after a few moments and Bruce just shrugs in response. "What do you do?"

"Not much.", he replies. "I'm a scientist."

She nods. "So, earlier this morning.. That a failed science experiment?"

"You can say it like that."

Natasha's eyes study his face. "What happened?"

"Lab accident.", Bruce's reply is short. "Left me with anger issues that cause a big green problem."

"The Hulk."

"Yeah."

Natasha's eyes widen as a memory sparks. "You broke Harlem..", Bruce nods. "I was there, you know. S.H.I.E.L.D. duty. It was one hell of a week for Nick."

"Fury? You're on first name basis with the director. Impressive.", he says. "It was, though, wasn't it? After the whole incident, I got put in S.H.I.E.L.D. custody. We struck a deal; they keep me away from Ross and the military and I in turn work for them. That way they can keep a close eye on me.", he explains. He leaves out living with Tony at the Tower – itself a very hectic time, because Tony's not the type of guy to just sit, relax and do nothing – or how he's getting sick of the whole monitoring thing and just wants to run away, be on his own. Away from people, because the threat of hurting them is constant and he would rather die than put them all in danger again.

"You don't like working for them, do you?", Natasha asks and he curses himself for thinking he could keep anything hidden from a spy – especially one as good as Natasha. And, judging by the glance at her file, she was the best they had.

Bruce shakes his head. "No, I don't. But where can I go? Where in the world am I not a threat?"

"You're not a threat to me.", she says and Bruce laughs bitterly.

"You're safe because you're a spirit. He can't hurt you.", he replies. "You'll think differently once you have your body to take care of."

"I've been through worse.", she says.

Bruce looks at her and it's as if she's decided to let her emotions show just this once. "Sorry.", he says and Natasha shakes her head.

"No.. Sometimes, we could use a little worse.", she replies and Bruce smiles. But, Natasha notices, there's something different about this smile. It seems more natural an Natasha wonders if that's the first true smile the shy doctor ever gave.

A sound coming from the laptop breaks the moment and Bruce turns his attention back to it. The breach though the hospital's firewall was successful, and Bruce's shoulders fall down in relief. "I'm guessing they'd use an alias?", he asks after a fast glance through the records discovered no _Natasha Romanoff_.

Natasha chuckles. "Yeah, but which one?"

"How many do you have?"

"A lot.", she replies. "Just start scrolling."

Bruce follows her instructions and waits for her to recognize a name, slowly scrolling through the list of names.

"Stop.", she says suddenly and Bruce doesn't move. "That's it. _Nadine Roman_. That's the one."

"You sure?"

"Yes.", Natasha replies. "It's the one I always use on missions with Clint. He's listed as my next of kin, he probably dealt with all the papers.", she explains as bits and pieces of memories start colliding together.

"Okay then, Nadine Roman.", Bruce says, closing the laptop. "Lets go before visiting hours finish."

"No better way to spend the afternoon.", she replies as they exit the apartment. "Is it customary to get flowers? Or chocolates? Or one of those ' _get well_ ' balloons?", she asks. "Or maybe since I'm visiting myself, I don't have to bother with that?"

Bruce's only reply is a laugh.

"I'm expecting a teddy bear from you.", she says, walking next to him. "I'll name it Big Guy. Do you think they come in green?"

* * *

They walk in through the doors of the local hospital about half an hour later.

Approaching the front desk, Bruce clears his throat to catch the head nurse's attention. "I'm here to see Nat-", he stops himself. "Roman. Nadine Roman."

"Sure thing, honey.", the older woman behind the front desk says. "You her family?"

Bruce opens is mouth to deny but Natasha stops him. "Tell her you're my fiancee.", she says and Bruce pauses.

"What?", he lowers his voice and tries to mask his question as a cough, but he can feel the nurse's eyes on him.

"Tell her we're engaged otherwise she won't let you see me.", she explains and Bruce nods.

"I'm her fiancee.", he says. "I would've come sooner but – _uh_ – I was traveling and, _um_ , poor cell service so I only found out just a few hours ago.", he answers and the nurse smiles sympathetically. Bruce almost sighs in relief. She believed him.

"I think you failed your profession, _Doctor_ Banner.", Natasha teases and Bruce struggles not to reply in fear of getting a few more weird looks from the nurse.

A minute or so later, the nurse speaks up again. "Follow me.", she says and Bruce follows, glancing at Natasha who walks next to him.

They pass a few hallways before the nurse stops in front of a room. A window allows a look inside, and Bruce pauses. There, on the bed, was Natasha. His Natasha; the Natasha that has been haunting him for more than a month, the Natasha that went on his nerves as equally as she intrigued him, the Natasha that was also standing right next to him.

 _Natasha_.

"I'm gonna leave you now.", the nurse says, thinking Bruce would prefer to be left alone. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah... _Yeah_ , I'm..", Bruce struggles to find the words, trying to tear his eyes from Natasha's sleeping form to at least give the nurse a reassuring look. "I'll be fine.", he says and the nurse nods, leaving.

Bruce steals a glance at the Natasha next to him, only to find her staring through the room window at her own lying form. His eyes follow hers.

"That's you.", he says, his voice low.

Natasha nods. "That's me."

They look at each other for a moment before going in.


	6. Chapter 6

He lets Natasha walk through the doors into the room first, opening the door for her – not that that was necessary. The room reminds Natasha of everything she hates about hospitals: the smell of disease and illness; the constant beeping of different machines, and as she looks at her own body lying in the hospital bed – the sheets also something Natasha hated, as even in them you could somehow smell death and medicine among the aroma of cheap fabric softener – she can't even count how many needles she has in her. Lying on that bed she finds herself so helpless, and Natasha hates it more than she hates anything. She despises looking so weak; her face is paler than usual and she knows that her muscles are far from what they used to be because – if her timeline is correct – she's been chained to that bed for months. Even if she does wake up, she'll have to do physical therapy for at last half a year before she's anywhere near in shape.

Bruce walks up from behind her and goes to the bed where Natasha's body is. If he didn't know better, he'd think she were asleep and about to wake up any second. He fights the urge to whisper when he speaks.

(That's another thing Natasha hated about hospitals; the silence. It reminded her too much of Russian winters. The white walls didn't help, either.)

"It's you.", he says. "It's actually you. _Natasha_..", her name leaves Bruce's lips in a slight whisper as his eyes study her face, his hand falling to the bed close to her arm.

She approaches the body slowly, as if she fears what might happen if she comes close. She shakes her head; Natasha's never been afraid of anything in her life and she's not about to start being afraid now.

"I'm dying.", she says, looking between her body on the bed and Bruce's face.

He looks up at her. "No, don't say that.", he says. "Your body is healing, you don't have any scars..", Bruce starts, trying to change her way of thinking. Her body is getting better and soon she'll be back in it, it's just a matter of time. "You look pretty.", he adds, his eyes back to look at her sleeping form, and it takes him a few moments to realise what he's said. Bruce blushes.

"' _Pretty_ '? Hm.", Natasha says, a smirk on her face, and Bruce tries desperately to avoid eye contact.

Bruce clears his throat. "Uhm, so..", he pauses, trying to form a coherent sentance in his mind, but finding it quit hard when Natasha – the spirit Natasha – keeps looking at him. Her eyes make him incredibly self-conscious – not that he isn't self-conscious enough already as it is.

Natasha makes it easier for him by focusing her attention to the windows. It's the middle of the afternoon and the sun is still shining. The visiting hours don't end for another few hours and Natasha wonders if anyone's going to visit her today. Her eyes fall down to the cupboards under the windows and she spies a number of different picture frames there, along with a few drawings made by Clint's children.

Bruce notices her approaching the cupboards, and he walks to her. She glances at him and he sends her a small smile.

"That's the picture that was on my nightstand.", she tells him, pointing to the frame in the middle. It's a picture of three adults - a man and two women – and three children: a boy, a girl and a baby being held by the dark-haired woman in the photo, probably the children's mother. The older boy is standing proudly by his father. Natasha is also in the picture; her red hair is longer and she's in casual clothes, the little girl sitting safely in her lap. The sign above reads ' _Welcome home, Nathaniel!_ ' in big capital letters, and each person in the picture is smiling widely, their faces radiating happiness.

"Who are those people?", Bruce asks, picking up the frame.

Natasha points at the man in the photo. "That's Clint. He works at S.H.I.E.L.D. as well, we're partners. He was sent to kill me, once, when I worked for the KGB. He made a different call.", she pauses and Bruce can tell how grateful Natasha is to Clint. He gave her a chance at a new life, a better one. She will forever be in his debt, although Clint always keeps telling her she owes him nothing. "That's his wife, Laura, and their kids.", Natasha continues, pointing at and naming each of them.

"You care about them a lot.", it's a statement rather than a question.

Natasha nods. "They're the closest thing I have to a family. They _are_ my family.", she says. "I was taught that love was for children. Now I believe that love is for those who deserve it."

"Do you think you deserve it?"

"I do. Most of the time.", she replies and Bruce knows the feeling. "But when I don't, I have them to remind me.", Natasha says, nodding to the picture. "I've got red in my ledger, but I'm gonna wipe it out."

Bruce has this sudden urge to hold her hand, to entertwine their fingers and giver her a reassuring squeeze, telling her that she can do it, that she deserves redemption more than any person he's ever met. Definitely more than he does.

He doesn't do it, though, because she's a spirit and his hand will only go through her. Instead, he just says: "You'll get back into your body, Natasha."

She nods and looks back at her body in the hopital bed. "What do you think I should do?", she asks him and he shrugs.

"Your guess is as good as mine.", he says.

"Aren't you the doctor?"

"PhD.", he replies, a smile in his voice. "Not MD. My medical expertise ends with being able to a few stitches."

"Good to know.", Natasha says almost absent-mindedly, her eyes still locked on the bed as she approaches it with more confidence that before. "So, do I just.. Lie down on the bed?", she asks and doesn't wait for an answer. Natasha gracefully climbs up on the bed and lies down, her spirit form going into her body.

Bruce sees her disappear like that and pauses. His senses go on full alert and his eyes are quick to check the monitors for her vitals. Suddenly, Natasha lifts her head from her body and looks at him.

"Did anything change?", she asks and Bruce only shakes his head. Natasha sighs. "I'll try again.", she says and puts her head back down.

Bruce's eyes return to the monitors. There's a slight jump in her vitals. "Wait, I think something's changing!", he says a bit too excitedly and his soulders fall in disappointment after minutes pass with no improvement. "Guess I was wrong. Nothing's happening."

Natasha gets up from the bed. "So, nothing, huh?"

Bruce shakes his head. "No. But-", he pauses, getting an idea. "Natasha, turn around."

"Why?", she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Just turn aroound, please.", he says and after a moment or two, Natasha turns around without complaints. Bruce takes a deep breath and hopes this will work. Slowly, he brings his hand next to the one lying on the bed. He carefully picks it up, taking her hand and putting it in his, his thumb gently stroking her hand.

Natasha's eyes widen as she starts feeling something on her hand. She lifts it up, studying it. How can she feel something like that? She's a spirit! Unless..

"Can you feel that?", she can hear Bruce ask and she turns around to see him holding the hand of the Natasha lying in bed; holding _her_ hand.

He looks up at her, noticing that she's turned around and she nods, not being able to keep a smile off her face. "Yes.", it comes out soft as a whisper but Bruce hears her and smiles back, a light chuckle escaping his lips.

"You're still connected to your body, Natasha.", Bruce says, and she can see the smile in his eyes, too. "Don't lose hope."

Natasha puts her hand down, although she can still feel Bruce holding it. "I won't."

* * *

Their comfortable silence is broken apart by the sound of child feet running through the hallway before entering the room. Bruce recognizes the boy and girl from the picture Natasha showed him. They excitedly jump on Natasha's bed, ignoring him, and they suddenly start rambling sentence after sentence, telling Natasha one interesting story after another.

"What did I say about running?", the woman Bruce recognizes as Clint's wife Laura appears at the door, a tired look on her face as her eyes glare at the two children that don't seem to pay attention to their mother. She's without her youngest child – Bruce remembers his name was Nathaniel, and wonders if maybe Natasha had some say with that – and he presumes that maybe she's left him at home with his father, or a babysitter. Hospitals aren't the best place to bring such a young child, although their parents might think the other two are old enough to handle it.

Laura's expression softens as she takes a look at Natasha lying on the bed, but then she furrows her brows in confusion as she finally takes in Bruce's presence.

It's only then that Bruce realizes he's still holding Natasha's hand, so he lets go. The spirit Natasha finds herself missing the feeling, although she can still feel Lila touching her hair and Cooper patting her shoulder every now and then.

Laura approaches Bruce, her gaze curious as she studies him carefully. "I'm sorry, I don't think we've met.", she says, extending her hand. "I'm Laura Barton."

"Nice to meet you.", Bruce says, accepting her hand. He can see Natasha standing behind Laura. "Bruce Banner.", he introduces himself and can see a slight flicker of recognition in Laura's eyes. She says nothing, though, and Bruce is a bit relieved. "I'm-"

Natasha cuts him off. "Don't say fiancee.", she says. "Or boyfriend. She won't believe we're dating.", Bruce can't really ask why, so he gives her a questioning look. Natasha replies quickly. "She knows me too well. I don't _date_."

Bruce understands her sentiment. His eyes go back to Laura and he can see that she's noticed him fazing out. He gives a small smile in apology. "I'm a friend of Natasha's.", he settles on that and he can see Natasha nodding in approval of his choice of explanation. "I've only just found out about this so I've decided to pay her a visit."

Laura narrows her eyes. "I didn't know they gave out this information to just _any_ friend.", she says and Bruce can feel his pulse speeding up. He's not good with any of this – the lying – so his level of nervousness is currently going through the roof. He tries to regulate his breathing as subtly as he can.

"Natasha and I crossed paths at S.H.I.E.L.D. a few times.", he says, clearing his throat. He hopes Laura's not a spy as well, otherwise he's screwed. "I've actually met her as Nadia, in fact. A few years back, before the – _uh_ – the _incident_.", he says and if he wasn't sure before that Laura Barton knew who he was, he is now.

For once, Bruce is grateful to the Hulk. Mentioning the Other Guy always seems to bring up a change of subject and this time is no different.

A kind smile appears on Laura's face – which tells Bruce she's accepted his story – and she moves closer to the hospital bed, giving him the opportunity to stand closer to Natasha.

Natasha looks up at him, a smirk on her face. "You really should consider a change of profession, Doc. That really was one hell of a story.", she teases. "I can put in a good word for you with Fury about moving to the spy division."

Checking to see if Laura could hear, Bruce replies. "A kind offer, but I think I'll pass."

"Shame."

"Try not to be too sad about it."

The look on Natasha's face is that of mock hurt. "You sure know how to break a girl's heart, Banner.", she says and Bruce chuckles at the tone of her voice, as if it came from an old, black and white movie.

Laura stops talking to the kids and turns around. "I don't know most of Natasha's friends other than Steve, but I'm glad she has people that care about her.", she says, taking a seat on the chair next to Natasha's bed – the one where Bruce was sitting before, while he was holding Natasha's hand. A part of him wants to go back and hold it again. He stops himself, although a slight blush cover his cheeks as he can see Natasha looking at him with careful eyes, studying him. She seems to do that often, and he wonders if it comes with the job description.

"She really is remarkable.", he says and Laura nods in agreement.

Laura puts her hand on top of Natasha's like a sister would, and Natasha fights the tears that threaten to come to her eyes as she feels the touch.

Being a ghost has made her soft.

"She'll wake up.", Laura says, her voice low and sure. "I know it."

"I do, too.", Bruce replies and, with one last smile towards Laura – which he tries to make reassuring – he and Natasha leave the room.

They pause outside the doors, and Bruce looks around to see if anyone's paying attention to him. Finding everyone caught up in their own business, he speaks to Natasha freely, although still keeping his voice low. "What next?", he asks, and Natasha steals a glance back into the room before replying.

"I think I'll stay here.", she says. "You've done enough already – finding my body.", Natasha looks up at him, her green eyes finding his. "Thank you for that."

"No need to thank me, Natasha, really.", Bruce says, his features softening. "I wish I could've done more, You're still not back in your body."

"That's something I should try and figure out by myself.", she says and Bruce, although he's not quite sure about leaving her alone here. But, he won't start questioning her decisions as Natasha is capable of making her own choices.

Bruce nods. "Okay.", he says. He feels like he's saying goodbye, and he doesn't know how he feels about that. "If you need anything-"

"I know.", she says, a smile on her face, and Bruce can't help but smile back.

He steals one more glance at Natasha's sleeping form through the room window before looking back at her spirit and turning to leave the hospital. Through all that, though, there was a part of him that knew this wasn't the last he'd seen of Natasha, and he wondered what that meant.

* * *

Natasha's not quite sure what to do on her own now. Yes, she's done more solo missions than she could count, and she never considered herself a team player, often deciding to be on her own. But, this mission was different. Her goal now was to find a way back into her body; to find a way to wake up.

And, honestly, she had no idea how to do that.

Natasha is brought out of her thoughts when a doctor approaches the door to her hospital room, knocking on the door before opening them and going in. She follows him inside.

Laura looks up at the doctor before telling the kids to stay where they are and getting up from her chair. She walks to stand by the doctor, and they move even more away from the kids to keep them from hearing the conversation.

Natasha stands close to Laura as the doctor starts talking. "Mrs. Barton, I know we've had this conversation before, but-"

"No.", Laura cuts him off. "I've told you already. We're not turning off the life support.", she hisses. Natasha can feel a smirk coming to her lips; she's always liked Laura. "Nadia will wake up.", Laura is careful to use Natasha's alias.

"Those chances are extremely slim, Mrs. Barton. And even if she does wake up, we have no clue what her life conditions may be like.", he says. "The brain damage, muscle atrophy.."

Laura sighs, a tired look on her face. Natasha comes as close to her as she can, hoping that the woman can maybe feel her presence. "Don't give up. Please.", Natasha whispers.

The doctor hands her the papers. "Talk to your husband.", he says. "Maybe this decision will be for the best for Ms. Roman.", he finishes and leaves the room. Laura takes a moment to compose herself before she goes back to her children, telling them to pack up their things with a forced smile on her face.

Natasha watches them leave, and then approaches her body once again. She studies herself carefully, and she can see the truth in what Bruce had said: she _was_ healing. But will she wake up soon? Or will the Bartons sign the papers before she has a chance to? She knows they would never give up on her – just like she'd never in her wildest dreams give up on them – but it's been months, and any normal person would lose hope by now, and decide to turn off life support in an effort to give the patient peace.

She's not sure she wants peace. She wants to _live_.

Natasha takes a deep breath, straightening her back and lifting up her chin. She will do whatever it takes to keep herself alive, but she knows she can't do it alone – not in this state, not as a spirit.

She's going to need Bruce's help. Again.


	7. Chapter 7

"What if they sign the papers?", she appears in the living room to find him asleep on the couch. Her words wake him up. It's late – Bruce doesn't need to check the clock to know that – and he rubs his face tiredly with one hand in a lazy attemp to wake himself up.

" _Natasha_ -"

"What if they sign the papers?", Natasha repeats and Bruce has an idea of what she might be talking about, but he doesn't want to think about it. He'd prefer to remain in denial, although it proves to be impossible as she continues speaking. "What if they turn off the life support before I manage to return to my body and I remain as a spirit haunting you forever. Or maybe I would just disappear, because there would be no body to keep me attached to this world and I will just dissolve into nothingness."

He lets her rant, lets her get it all out of her system as she keeps staring at the wall behind him, as if not being able to look him in the eyes while he looks at her, his neck in an awkward position because of which he'll know he'll have a sore neck later. Bruce ignores the pain. "They won't do that."

"Eventually they will.", she retorts. "Maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow. But one day, they'll give up, and they'll sign the papers and I'll be dead.", she's keeping her feelings at bay, her face giving away no emotions but, when she finally looks at him, Bruce can see a flicker of something like pain in her eyes, and he knows she's letting him see that. Natasha is a spy after all – one trained to keep her emotions in check – and he's sure that he can only see what she allows him to; but, the fact that she _does_ let him see what she's feeling is enough for him. Natasha trusts him, and he will never break that trust.

Bruce shifts on the couch so Natasha could sit down and she does, her eyes never leaving his. She finds comfort in them, and her chest tightens. She's not quite familiar with that feeling. Natasha associates it with the love she feels for the Bartons, but stronger and... _different_. Different in a way that she's not used to it being.

"I won't let them do that, Natasha.", he says, and there's detirmination in his voice. She's not sure if the dark is playing tricks on her – a small lamp being the only source of light – but she thinks his eyes have a shade of Hulk green to them. Surprisingly, it comforts her. "I won't let them let you die."

Natasha smiles almost shyly, and he's sure he's never seen her smile so genuinely. "I feel so helpless sometimes.", she confesses and Bruce furrows his brows as if asking her to continue, to explain. Telling her he will listen. "I'm used to doing everything on my own. Being able to fend for myself. But now – like this – I can't do anything. And I hate it.", she says. "Having to rely on your help, and to ask you to help me even more – after you've already done so much, I hate it more than anything."

"There's nothing weak about asking for help, Natasha.", he says and she scoffs, suddenly looking down at the floor. She's heard that line so many time before – from Clint, Coulson, Fury, Laura.. the list goes on and on – and she knows it's the truth. Knows that even the strongest people can fall sometimes and that even the most capable ones can't do everything on their own all the time.

"I know that.", she says. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"I understand.", Bruce replies and she looks back up at him. "You dislike not being able to do at least something by yourself. It's not recieving help that bothers you – or maybe even asking for it. You're a logical person, asking for help in a moment of need is the logical thing to do. But the fact that you know you can't do anything at all, not without a body.. That's what's eating you up, isn't it?"

She knows it's a question she doesn't need to answer but she does, anyway. "Yes.", Natasha says and she feels a bit relieved.

"Old habits are hard to break.", Bruce says simply, shrugging his shoulders. "Lets hope you can get back to them quickly."

Natasha manages a smile, and Bruce returns it.

"Where do you think Clint and Laura are staying with the kids?", he says and Natasha quirks an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. She's not giving information about the Bartons away that easily – even if she does trust Bruce. She swore to protect that family – her family – with her life. Her loyalty to them holds higher ground than anything else. Bruce somehow seems to understand her train of thought and continues before she can say anything, lifting his hands slightly as if to calm her. "I'm just gonna talk to them tomorrow. Convince them not to do something as stupid as signing those papers.", he says and he can see Natasha relax.

"They'd probably be at one of the safe houses.", she says, knowing that she'd be going with him and maybe be able to do damage control – well as much damage control as she can with being a spirit and all – and she hopes things don't even come to that. "I think I might know which one."

He nods, before heading to bed to get some more sleep. They've got work to do tomorrow.

* * *

He's driving the car almost too carefully and Natasha can tell this isn't somthing he does on a regular, day-to-day basis. Bruce seems too fidgety, too nervous – as if there's not enough space. She wouldn't have pegged him as a claustrophobic person, but thinking about it, Natasha finds that it would make sense. Not just the obvious one – the fact that he had something akin to a beast inside of him that definitely wouldn't be able to it in the car (could definitley lift the car with one finger and throw it three blocks away, even), and that Bruce's subconscious is aware of that – but rather that it probably goes even further past that. Natasha's read his file – she's been assigned to the case after the accident, Fury's orders – and she knows of his life. She knows what Bruce's childhood was like; abusive father who went as far as killing Bruce's mother in front of him (Natasha remembers the date of her death being close to the end of May and wills herself not to think about how his mother probably was waiting until summer break to leave with him, so that Bruce wouldn't have to miss school) and Natasha thinks that maybe most of his insecurities and self-loathing do come from that – maybe emphasised by the fear of becoming like his father – and not just from the accident that brought out the Hulk; a beast that favored violence much like Bruce's own father.

She's nudged out of her thoughts when Bruce speaks, glancing at her for a second before quickly looking back at the road. "Tell me something."

Natasha nods her head to the side. "What?"

"Something secret.", he says. "Something only you and Clint know. Anything I could use to convince them that I can actually see you."

Natasha shrugs. "Clint's not gonna believe you no matter what you say.", she replies. "He grew up in a circus. All that psychic shit is just a trick to him."

"There's gotta be something.", Bruce says.

Natasha doesn't say anything for a while and Bruce almost starts thinking it's a lost cause, but then she turns to him. "Budapest.", is all she says. Bruce nods.

Going simply by the smirk on Natasha's lips, Bruce knows this is the best option they have.

* * *

He parks a car outside a house that looks the same as every other one on the block. The name on the door doesn't say Barton, but Natasha assures him this is the place, saying that they've stayed there a few times before when they were in New York. Natasha doesn't mention where they usually live but Bruce never asks, anyway. He knows it's a secret for a reason.

He rings the doorbell twice and turns to Natasha, not hearing any footsteps approaching. "Give him a second.", she says. "Clint's got some problems with his hearing."

Bruce nods. "It's not like I've got anywhere to be.", he says. "What's my cover?", he asks with a grin although the words seem strange coming out of his mouth. He's slowly beginning to get used to this whole undercover thing and for a brief second considers Natasha's previous teasing offer to join the spy devision. Maybe he'd like it, if it paired him up with her as a partner. Plus, maybe that way he might feel like he's useful to S.H.I.E.L.D., and not just as the Other Guy – which is why he's declined the talks of the Avengers Initiative Fury came to him with once.

Tony seemed incredibly interested in it, though, and although Bruce hasn't heard anything about it in ages, he makes a mental note to ask Stark about it the next time they talk. Maybe he could do something in that team that didn't require the Hulk. The current science work S.H.I.E.L.D.'s been giving him wasn't anything special – not much, but just enough to keep him from leaving – other than an attempt to keep tabs on him. And Bruce let them. He hasn't had an incident in over a year, and he hopes he can get to two; maybe even three.

He's taken away from his thoughts when Natasha speaks again. "Laura's probably told him about you visiting.", she says. "Sorry, fella, but looks like you're not getting lucky this time.", she says with a smirk.

"Guess I just can't catch a break, huh, kid?", he replies, matching her roleplay tone of voice. He sees she's about to say something – maybe tease him, because the comeback really wasn't something much – but the door opens before she does, and it's Clint looking at him with a confused expression.

"Can I help you?", he asks, and there's a pause at the end of the question to say that he's expecting an introduction. Bruce looks up at the archer and although he does seem a bit familiar, Bruce can't place him. Maybe he's seen him in passing over at S.H.I.E.L.D., or maybe even at Tony's. Stark Tower was a big place, and there was always someone going in and out, just as Tony liked it. Bruce was never too fond of crowds, or the feeling of the space around him shrinking which they brought with them, but living with Tony, a person gets a bit more used to things like that.

Bruce extends his hand. "Hello, I'm Bruce Banner.", he introduces himself and he can see from the look in Clint's eyes that he recognises him.

"Yeah, Laura told me about you visiting Nat.", Clint says but Bruce knows that's not the only reason Clint's heard of him.

Bruce nods. He clears his throat, his nerves getting to him. "I'm actually here to talk about Natasha.", he says. Clint crosses his arms and leans on the doorway. His eyes tighten to look at Bruce carefully but he doesn't say anything. "Mind if I come in?", Bruce asks and there's a couple of moments of silence from Clint before the archer nods and moves aside in a silent invitation. "Thank you.", Bruce says as he follows Clint into the kitchen. He can see that his two older kids are at home, but Laura isn't and neither is the smallest one.

Clint grabs a beer from the fridge and opens it, before turning around to look at Bruce. He offers the bottle to him but Bruce declines with a simple shake of his head. Clint shrugs and takes a sip from the bottle. "So, what about Nat?"

"I'm here to ask you not to turn off the life support."

Bruce's answer takes Clint by surprise, although the archer tries not to show it. "How do you know about that?", he asks and Bruce looks around the room as if he doesn't want to meet Clint's eyes.

Bruce steals a glance at Natasha by his side, but she's focused on the kids – Cooper and Lila – watching them play and he can see there's a small smile on her face. He wonders if she knows that she's smiling. The sight almost makes Bruce smile as well, but he shakes his head and continues talking to Clint. "I was at the hospital.", Bruce replies. "The doctor talked to Laura, gave her some papers and it wasn't really that hard to put two and two together.", he says and he hopes Clint believes the story. "Please – please, don't sign those papers.", Bruce pleads. "Natasha will wake up. You just have to-"

"What?", Clint cuts him off. "I just gott wait? I just gotta have hope?", Clint says and there's a bit of bitterness in his voice, as well as pain. "We've been doing that for the past few months, okay? We've all been hoping and praying and nothing's happened."

Natasha lifts her head as Clint's tone of voice becomes louder, and there's a feeling of guilt that threatens to overcome her now as she sees through how much pain she's put them all. She's about to open her mouth to tell Bruce to just give up, when Lila puts a small toy plate in front of Natasha – accompanied with a small plastic teacup from the play set Natasha knows Lila got for her last birthday – before the girl looks up.

Lila looks up at Natasha.

"Can you see me?", Natasha asks, her voice like a whisper, but the only thing Lila does in reply is pour imaginary tea in Natasha's plastic teacup. Natasha furrows her brows, looking at the cup. "Lila, you can see me."

On the other side of the room, Clint continues talking. "Look, I know Natasha better than anyone. She's my best friend. We all care for her and we want what's best for her. And maybe – this time – the best thing we can do for her is let her have her peace."

Bruce's eyes widen at Clint's words. "You didn't..", he can't find it in himself to finish the question. Can't make the words come out. The weight of the half-asked question fall across the room and Clint sighs, putting the beer down on the kitchen counter.

"We signed the papers an hour ago.", Clint says and Bruce can't believe what he's hearing. Natasha finally comes to stand next to him and he steals a glance at her only to see her looking back at him with her eyes just as wide as his – but he can tell there's something else going on there, too. He might ask her about it later. "They're turning the machines off tomorrow morning.", Clint finished, saying the last words Bruce ever wanted to hear.

He has to do something, and fast.

"I can see her.", the words leave Bruce's mouth in a hurry, before he had time to process what he was about to say. "I can see Natasha – I can see her spirit – and she's right here. She's right here, with us, standing right next to me and I'm begging you, please. Please don't let them turn off those machines. Give Natasha a little more time.", he pauses. "She'll wake up."

Clint doesn't reply to him, instead he looks behind Bruce's shoulder to Cooper and Lila. "Hey, kids, how about you go to the big bedroom and watch some TV, huh? I'll be there in a second.", he says and the kids listen, running off to fight about which DVD they'll watch. Clint then starts pacing around, as if he's searching for something.

"He's not buying it, Bruce.", Natasha says, her voice urgent. "You have to do something. Tell him about Budapest.", she orders.

Bruce complies instantly. "Wait, Budapest! I know about Budapest."

Clint looks up at Bruce, his glare deadly. "What do you know about Budapest?"

"Everything."

Clint narrows his eys at Bruce, nodding his head to the side. "Everything?"

Bruce nods. "Everything.", he repeats.

"And how would you know everything about Budapest?"

"Natasha told me.", Bruce replies.

Clint turns away from Bruce again, shaking his head and mumbling. "Where the fuck are my arrows?!"

"Bruce..", Natasha calls out to him. "We've got to leave. _Now_."

"No, Natasha, it's okay. I'm gonna get him to believe me."

" _Bruce_ -"

"Natasha, it's oka-"

Suddenly, Clint is in front of him again, a butcher knife in hand. Bruce guesses he gave up on finding his bow and arrows. "Get the fuck out of my house, you lunatic!", Clint yells and Bruce runs, deciding that maybe Natasha was right.

Two minutes later, and he and Natasha are out on the street, Clint closing the door behind them. The archer then sighs and heads for the master bedroom, where he knew Cooper and Lila were. Opening the doors, butcher knife hidden behind his back and a fake smile on his face, Clint finds them lying on the bed, a their full attention set at the movie playing on the TV in front of them. "You guys hungry?", he asks, grateful that the kids seemed oblivious to what had just happened.

They shake their heads no, their full attention still on the TV, and Clint is just about to close the door and go call Laura before Lila speaks.

"Does Auntie Natasha want more tea?"

Clint just looks at his daughter, his eyes wide.

 _What the fuck?_


	8. Chapter 8

"I don't think your friend is a very spiritual person.", Bruce says as he walks up to where Natasha's standing, her gaze set on the park in front of her as she watches people, studying them.

"He's just being a good dad.", Natasha replies, glancing at him. "Trying to keep his kids away from a crazy guy.", she adds and Bruce scoffs, putting his hands in his pockets. They look back at the park ahead of them, and Natasha's eyes study a woman with her child sitting on a blanket, green grass all around them. The blanket is covered with toys and there's a picnic basket on one side, and the child lets out a small laugh while in its mother's arms as a dog passes them.

"I'm never gonna get to do that.", Bruce says suddenly, and when Natasha turns to look at him, she finds him looking at the ground.

"Do what?", she asks although she thinks she might already know the answer."

"Be a dad.", Bruce replies. "Have a family. My friends, they - um - they keep trying to get me to date but.. there's no future for anyone with me, you know?", he says. His eyes are hidden from her, but Natasha knows that if she could see them, they'd be filled with pain. She knows that pain. "I can never have that. Kids."

"Neither can I.", she says, not missing a beat. Her eyes are back to the mother and her child playing in the park. She can feel Bruce's eyes on her, but she knows he's not going to ask; he's not going to push the subject. She likes that about him. Likes the ease that comes with him, the feeling that she doesn't have to explain herself, to make excuses, to tell him every detail of her life.

Bruce, she realised, has acceptance for almost everyone but himself.

Natasha continues, finding that she likes opening herself up to him. "In the Red Room, where I was trained - where I was raised - they have a graduation ceremony.", she pauses. She's never told this to anyone other than Clint, and it is a hard subject for her. Always has been. She doesn't let tears form in her eyes - although she's certain she might not be able to win that fight - and tries to keep her composure. But, from all they've taken from her - her family, her childhood, her innocence - this is something that never stops hurting, even if she's come to terms with it years ago. "They sterilize you.", she says and finally glances at Bruce. "It's efficiant.", she adds with a shrug. "One less thing to worry about. The one thing that matters more than a mission. Makes everything easier. Even killing."

"Natasha..", Bruce's voice is no louder than a whisper as he says her name, each syllable filled with emotion. She closes her eyes to the sound, but only for a moment. When she opens them again, she's looking at Bruce.

"I think I would've liked to have been a mom.", she says and this is a thought she's truly never shared with anyone. It's a thought that's passed her mind only a couple of times before - usually when she was with one of the Barton kids - but it's always been stuck in the back of her mind. Would she have been a mother, if they didn't take that from her? Would she have had a normal life, found someone to spend the rest of her life with? She was always taught to use love as a tool, and sometimes Natasha wondered what it would've been like if she did fall in love – real love, one she didn't have to ever betray.

"You'd make a good one.", Bruce says, and there's this warm feeling that spreads through Natasha, and she smiles at him.

"Thank you."

Bruce nods. "We could go to the hospital again. I could talk to the doctors-"

"No, Bruce."

"I'll go to S.H.I.E.L.D., talk to the damn director. This can't be it, Natasha. I _can't_ be the end."

Natasha sighs. "There's no way anyone's ever going to believe I'm still here."

"Clint's daughter!", Bruce yells. "I noticed that she saw you. She _saw_ you."

"Oh, great!", Natasha deadpans. "My fate is in the hands of a little girl who propably has ten other imaginary friends."

They stay silent for a moment before Bruce speaks up again. "There is someone.", he says and Natasha lifts an eyebrow in confusion. "There's someone we can talk to, someone who can help."

"Who?"

"Lets go."

* * *

He's not sure where he can find Thor - you never know with the Asgardian - but, luckily, the Norse god still remained in Stark Tower, and Bruce had no problem meeting up with him.

He and Natasha speed down the halls of the Tower quickly and Natasha barely has time to fully acknowladge where they are, but the feel of the entire place is familiar although she still can't seem to put a finger on it. She knows this place - she is sure she's been here before - but she guess she'll have to leave that question for another time. If there ever will be another time, that is.

"Doctor Banner!", Thor's loud voice fills the room quickly, and the large Asgardian stands up from the kitchen table to greet Bruce. Natasha steps aside, letting Thor embrace Bruce, but suddenly the god of thunder turns in her direction. She knows he can't see her - his eyes look way above her - but he can feel her, and it's a turn of events that leaves Natasha puzzled for a moment, but she goes along with it. "And I can see your visitor has returned. Have you made friendships?"

Bruce shrugs. "We.. acclimated.", Thor smiles at Bruce's reply. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually.", Bruce says, scratching the back of his head as he thinks about how he should approach the subject. "Natasha's alive, but she's in a coma. And her family is turning off life support."

The Norse god is taken aback by the use of unknown terms, but quickly rebuffs, answering. "She was wounded in battle?"

Bruce nods. "They're going to let her die.", he says, only realising he should've explained the situation in not quite medical ways as he is sure Asgardians use other terminology for this condition. Bruce knows Thor Odinson is a smart man, though, and has caught on with what the scientist was trying to say quickly - albeit asking for clarification. "Is there anything you know, like a spell or a chant.."

"Electric shock?", Natasha offers.

"Anything", Bruce continues, "that could put her spirit back into her body?"

"You're asking the wrong questions, sir Bruce.", Thor replies after a short pause, and Bruce looks back at the god, confused.

"How is that wrong?"

"The reason these spirits roam the Earth in the first place is their own unfinished business. It is something they must figure out for themselves.", the Norse god replies. "We can't decide that for them."

"But how is it that I can see her and talk to her when no one else can?", Bruce asks, and Thor gives him a small smile.

"Exactly."

"Exactly _what_?", Bruce repeats, confused.

"That's the right question.", Thor says and leaves, giving Bruce one last pat on the back.

Bruce and Natasha share a look. This wasn't really helping them at all.

* * *

As soon as they walk into the apartment, Bruce hurries to the living room, sitting down on the couch and opening his laptop while at the same time taking one of the books he borrowed from the local library weeks ago on the subject of spirits and searching through the pages for anything that could help them.

Soon, though, he gives up, frustratingly throwing the book on the floor. He can feel his pulse rising, so he puts his head in his hands and takes a few calming breaths. "I just... I feel like the solution is right in front of us, but we can't get a handle on it.", Bruce says, sighing.

Natasha shrugs. "How do you solve a problem that isn't possible in the first place?", she asks. "You're being too hard on yourself."

"Natasha, I turn into a giant green rage monster when I'm angry and I've been talking to a _spirit_ for the past few months; nothing's impossible to me anymore.", he says. "Why did I move into your apartment in the first place? Pepper showed me fifteen others, at least. Why this one?", he looks up at Natasha as she's standing on the opposite him, the small coffee table separating them. "Why _can_ I see you when no one else can? How come we both work for S.H.I.E.L.D.? It just.. It all seems interconnected somehow."

Natasha moves to sit next to him on the couch as Bruce takes another deep breath and starts going through another book. Her gaze falls down to the coffee table where she catches sight of something. "Where did you get this?"

Bruce looks up with a light " _hm_ " before he sees her pointing to the frame with the picture that was in her hospital room and that now lied on his coffee table. "Yeah, uh..", he starts, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. "I took it.", he admits. Natasha says nothing, but looks back at the picture frame. "I just wanted to have a picture of you.", Bruce says and Natasha's eyes catch is again. She can tell that he's fighting the urge to look away, embarrassed enough as it is. "I.. I wasn't sure if I was ever going to see you again. I'm sorry."

Natasha smiles. "Don't be sorry.", she says. "I don't usually give sentimental value to material things, but I have to admit I really like that picture."

"Yeah. I like it, too."

"It was the first day they brought Nathaniel home.", she explains. "He was supposed to be a she. They were gonna name her Natasha. Traitor.", Natasha says with a smirk and Bruce chuckles, lifting the picture so that the both of them could get a better look at it.

"It must've been a great day."

"Oh, God, it was hectic.", Natasha says, laughing a little. "I grew up in Soviet Russia and I almost lost my mind that day. The kids were screaming and yelling and running around the house like flies with no direction whatsoever. It was torture.", she pauses. "But it was good, yeah. It was. Everyone was just so happy, you know? I never had a family, but I think that – with them – I finally got it.", Natasha's eyes brighten up as she speaks about the Barton family, and Bruce smiles at her happiness. "And every family is a bit hectic, no?"

Bruce nods in agreement. Natasha looks up at him, and their eyes lock. For the first time since he's met her, Bruce sees Natasha's collected exterior go away almost completely. She's in front of him, her walls down and tears threatening to fall out of her eyes, and Bruce thinks how strong this woman is to have survived everything she's been through and have some happiness, only for it to now be so close to being taken away. She deserves to keep her life. She deserves the world.

"I was happy.", she admits. "With them, I was truly happy. But, when I think about the rest of my life, all I can remember is working. Whether it was for KGB or for S.H.I.E.L.D., I was always fighting for someone else, while trying to wipe all the red off my ledger.", she pauses. "There was so much red. Still is."

"You're being too hard on yourself.", Bruce says, echoing her previous words.

Natasha smiles at him. "And here I was thinking that was your job.", she says. The corners of his mouth lift in a small attempt of a smile, and Natasha looks back to the picture. "I don't think I'm ready to say goodbye to them.", she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "Not yet." - because they're what matter to her the most. They're her family. The one she got without asking, and she worked hard every day in order to deserve them, to be worthy of them. And she was never gonna stop. Although, now she might have to. But, they're strong. They'll be alright without her.

"You won't have to, Natasha.", Bruce replies, putting the frame back on the table. "I promise you that we'll-"

"You know,", Natasha cuts him off, not letting him finish. "I don't want to spend my last night here trying to avoid my fate.", she says. "I want to do something. With you.", she looks at Bruce and he's got his brows furrowed, thinking for ways to get her to change her mind and fight for herself. She can see when he accepts her wishes, as his features soften.

"Okay.", Bruce gets up from the couch and then turns back to her. "What do you want to do? You want to go to Paris? See the Eiffel Tower without having to worry about spies and secret missions? Want to dance on a beach in Bali? I heard Fiji is great.", Bruce keeps pitching suggestion after suggestion and Natasha laughs. "Lets do it. Lets do it, anywhere. Anywhere in the world!", he says. "Well, anywhere that'll take on of the numerous cedit cards Tony's made for me. Natasha shakes her head, smiling. 鄭nywhere. Bruce says, his tone serious.

"There is something I would like to do."

"Anything."

* * *

They're lying on the bed, turned towards one another. "Are you nervous?", Bruce asks, even though he knows it's probably a stupid question.

Natasha smiles. "I'm never nervous.", she says and Bruce gives a small smile in return. "But, yes. Maybe a little."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"Why are you nervous if I can't even touch you?"

"I think I'm nervous _because_ you can't touch me.", she replies.

Bruce lifts his hand towards her, his palm waiting hers to join it. Natasha is reminded of when she did the same gesture, after he woke up from his nightmare – _his memory_ – and she knows he's doing it to soothe her, help her the same way she helped him.

Thinking about it, Natasha finds the gesture incredibly intimate. Something so simple holding such emotion, being able to relax them both, to reassure them in ways words can't; like it's a physical manifestation of something they feel for each other – what exactly, she doesn't know.

She lifts her hand, laying it against his gently and slowly, so it doesn't go through him. Soon, their palms are close enough to create an illusion that they actually _are_ touching.

"I can almost feel that.", he says, his eyes closed and hir voice is barely louder than a whisper.

Her eyes on their palms before they look up at him again. "Me, too.", Natasha says, studying him closely, and she can see the corner of his eyes wrinkle in something other than just happiness. Affection, maybe.

"I think I know what my unfinished business is.", she says and a small smile appears on her lips. Bruce smiles back.

"What?"

"You."

They stay like that for a while, and Natasha can almost hear Bruce's heartbeat in the silence of the room. It brings her comfort.


	9. Chapter 9

The morning sun shines through the windows of Bruce's bedroom and he begins to slowly wake up from his sleep which was surprisingly peaceful last night – something he wasn't quite used to, to be honest. When he opens his eyes, he blinks away the rest of the tiredness away and subconsciously smiles, Natasha's name leaving his lips.

"Natasha?", he calls out, turning on the side where she was lying. Though, she was suddenly gone and her side of the bed was empty. "Natasha?!", he calls out again, this time a bit louder and in distress as he sits up in bed.

Where is she?

"I'm here.", she says calmly and Bruce lets out the breath he has been holding as he finally notices her sitting on the chair in the corner of the bedroom. His pulse was slowing down – having been risen by the fear of thinking it was too late and that he had already lost her – and he started to breathe more easily.

"Thank God, I thought you were-"

"Gone?", she supplies and there's a small smile on her face. Bruce doesn't know why she's smiling, but he won't ask. "No, I'm still here. It's a weird feeling, you know?", she asks. "Just waiting to disappear any second. I wonder what that would feel like..", she pauses and looks him in the eyes. "Do you think it will hurt?"

It's a weird question to ask, and she doesn't know where it came from. Natasha was never really worried about pain, or it's consequences. She endured enough through her life to know she could survive a lot of things. Natasha never gave much thought to death even if it was almost a constant companion in her everyday life with her choice of profession. But, now, everything just seemed so real and the thought of just disappearing into thin air all of a sudden had her questioning things. Would it hurt? Would she feel anything before it happens? Or will she just be talking to Bruce one second and then be gone the next?

A part of Natasha wanted Bruce to give her answers to all these questions, but she also knew that there was no way for him to be able to give them.

"I don't have the answers to that, Natasha.", he replies honestly and Natasha nods, knowing well that he didn't. "But I think I know what I'm supposed to do.", he continues, getting out of bed. He was still dressed in last night's clothes but he didn't bother changing. Instead, he just sat at the edge of the bed and put on his shoes. "This time, I can do something.", he says, tying his laces.

Natasha furrows her eyebrows, looking at him questionably. "What are you talking about?", he doesn't reply. "Bruce?"

He finally looks up. "Natasha, when we met.. I kept saying you were dead. But you want to know the truth? It was me that was dead.", he says, but Natasha's confusion grows. It's like he's talking nonsense, and Bruce desperately wants her to understand, to hear him out. "I know how this sounds; crazy and like it should belong in a movie where the guy suddenly belts out into this long-winded speech about one thing or the other. But this is as sincere as I know how to be.", he continues. Natasha listens to him patiently, and that gives him the courage to continue. "Ever since the accident it was every only me and my work. Either being at the Tower or locking myself in the lab trying to find a way to cure myself, which I knew could never happen. I barely even talked to anyone, I isolated myself in the fear that I would hurt those I cared about the way my father hurt my mother.", his voice lightly breaks here, and Natasha can almost feel the pain that those memories bring him. She wishes Bruce's father was alive just to have the opportunity to kill him herself. "I stopped living; I was dead, and you brought me back. You saved me.", he finishes and there is such sincerity in his voice it almost makes Natasha's eyes water.

Guess that recent years have made her soft.

Bruce gets up from the bed. "Now it's my turn to save you.", he says and Natasha gets up from her chair, walking to him.

"Bruce, what the hell are you doing?", she asks him as he takes his car keys and puts them in his pocket, along with his cellphone. "How do you think you're going to save me?"

Bruce turns around and looks at her with determination written all over his features. Natasha doesn't think she ever saw him like this.

"I'm going to steal your body.", he finally replies and Natasha pauses.

He's not joking.

Bruce walks out of the room quickly, grabbing his jacket from where he left it on the couch and heading out the door. Natasha catches him as he leaves the building. "Bruce.. Bruce! Bruce, you can't do that."

"Why not?", he asks, not turning around.

Natasha deadpans. "Oh, I don't know.. Maybe because you'll go to jail?!", she yells. "S.H.I.E.L.D. won't be able to protect you. In fact, they might be the ones that come and arrest you themselves; you're stealing the body of one of their best agents.", she explains. "They'll lock you up."

"So what?", Bruce asks when he gets to his car, finally turning around. "If something happens to you, do you think I'll care where I'll be?", he says and Natasha doesn't reply. She can't believe he's willing to risk so much. His voice softens, "At least I'll be able to buy us more time, if only just a little."

After a few seconds, Natasha gives up arguing with him. "The things you'll need to know to even think of pulling this off-", she tries rationalizing with him, but he cuts her off.

"You know them, Natasha.", he says. "You've said it yourself; you're their best agent."

"I said _one of_."

Bruce smiles. "We both know you were just being humble.", he says. "You're good at what you do and you'll talk me through it."

It takes Natasha a few more moments before she agrees. "Okay.", she says and she can see relief on Bruce's features, even though she knew that he would've tried this with or without her. "You're going to need a van.", she says and he nods. That one's easy, he can just rent one. "And someone with no morals." Well, that one's even easier.

He has just the right person in mind.

* * *

"What are we moving again?", Tony asks, trying not to sound distressed over Bruce's not so careful driving. Tony might be Iron Man, but right now he's actually scared for his life.

"Medical supplies.", Bruce answers. It was the first thing that came to mind.

Natasha looks at Bruce, surprised. "You didn't tell him?", Bruce hushes her but Natasha just rolls her eyes. "You have to tell him, Bruce.", she says, glancing at Tony. "You know, he looks familiar.."

"You probably saw him on the news."

"Who saw me on the news?", Tony asks. "Did I look good? I always tell them to film me from my better side."

"You have a better side?", Bruce asks, not really paying attention to Tony as he's trying to get to the hospital as fast as possible without being stopped by the police for going way over the speed limit.

Tony shrugs. "You're right; I look great from any side."

"Watch out!", Bruce yells as he suddenly takes a turn on the street. The car shifts a bit and Tony yells out in panic.

"And we're in such a hurry to move these medical supplies because..?"

"Uh, um..", Bruce tries to come up with an answer quickly, also trying to keep with the hospital theme he had already set up. "One day sale on hospital beds.", he replies and both Tony and Natasha look at him with disbelief. "I've always wanted one."

"Seriously, Banner?", Natasha asks from the backseat. "This is your excuse?"

Bruce ignores her, but he can't ignore Tony. "How about you just slow down the car so we don't crash and die, and I'll personally go order you the best hospital bed a healthy person could want. Huh, how does that sound, buddy?", Tony's voice becomes strained as Bruce shows no intention of slowing down. "Also, remind me to never get into a car with you ever again, alright? This is why I have drivers."

Natasha chuckles, shaking her head. "You've got to tell the poor guy."

"Not yet.", Bruce tries to whisper so that it doesn't get noticed by Tony, but fails miserably.

"Not yet what?", the billionaire asks him.

Bruce quickly answers. "We're not there yet."

Tony sighs. "Be honest with me, Banner."

"Huh?"

"Has your imaginary friend come out to play?", he asks and Bruce ignores his question by speeding through a stop sign in front of the hospital; probably not one of his best ideas, but they were in a hurry.

It does the job of shutting up Tony, though, so the idea was good enough.

* * *

They all walk into the supply closet without being detected in order to grab whatever necessary in order to carefully remove her from the life support and get her out of the hospital without actually killing her.

Bruce grabs a cart and starts picking up supplies that he knows they'll need from his limited knowledge of medicine. He never went to med-school, but knew enough to be able to know what exactly he needed to take. He took a blood pressure cuff from the top shelf and a portable ventilator from the opposite shelf.

Tony looks at him with confusion. "Bruce, what the hell are you doing? This isn't a sale – not that I've been to many myself."

Bruce stops fumbling with the supplies. "Okay, okay. I knew you wouldn't come if I told you."

Tony sighs. "Do I really want to hear this?", he asks, but Bruce ignores that question.

"My imaginary friend is not imaginary.", he says and Tony nods, urging him to get to the point – although he's still not sure if he actually wants to hear it. "She is the spirit of a woman in a coma who they're about to take off life support.", he explains. "I can't let them do that so we have to get her body someplace save."

"Really?", Tony looks at him, still not sold to the idea.

Bruce nods. "Really."

"You should've told him earlier.", Natasha says, repeating her previous statements. This time, though, Bruce doesn't ignore her. Instead, he looks right at her, ignoring Tony.

"He wouldn't have believed me."

"Well, he sure does believe you now, doesn't he?", Natasha replies sarcastically.

Bruce shakes his head. "I had to get him to the hospital."

"Bruce. Bruce-y.", Tony calls for his attention in a soothing voice, as if talking to a wounded animal. "How about you let me take you upstairs to the psych ward, huh? There are people there who can help you.", he suggests. "Maybe they'll even give you some extra pudding, you know, if you're into hospital food."

"There's no time!", Bruce yells out. He can feel his pulse rising but he's so far keeping it under control. "It's eleven-thirty; she'll be dead in half an hour. I've gotta do something, Tony."

Tony nods. "Okay. Okay, if you're friend is standing there, ask what I'm doing with my hand right now.", Tony says, putting one hand behind him. "Rock, paper or scissors."

Bruce looks at him as if he can't believe Tony is literally asking that right now. Behind him, Natasha rolls her eyes.

"Rock.", she says, not quite herself believing that she was actually doing that right now. When Bruce repeats that to Tony who looks surprised.

"You were just lucky. Again."

Bruce groans, but Natasha is quick to reply. "Scissors.", Bruce repeats that, but Tony keeps changing his hands. "Rock again. Paper.", she says and Bruce follows suite, repeat every word she says. Tony changes hands again. "Did he just flip me off?"

Bruce looks at Tony, surprised. "Are you flipping her off?", he asks and Tony quickly drops his hands.

"Tell him I'm plotting his murder right now.", Natasha says, but Bruce and Tony are already deep into a discussion.

"You're flipping her off!", Bruce yells.

"Even if she is real, do you have any idea what you're risking for this woman?", Tony asks him and Bruce nods.

"Yes.", the simple answer finds Natasha off-guard. It's still so surreal to her how quick Bruce was to leave everything and do anything possible just to help her.

"Why?", Tony asks – a question Natasha as well wanted to know the answer to – and it takes Bruce a few moments before he replies.

Bruce finally shrugs. "Because I love her. I love her.", he says and the words leave his mouth so effortlessly, as if he was always meant to say them. His feelings are suddenly so clear to him now, and he knows for sure that he loves Natasha Romanoff with every fiber of his being, even if he has only known her as a spirit. Natasha pauses, her eyes widening. Did she hear that right? He loves her? Natasha looks at Bruce, her expression being at the same time soft and questioning. He looks back at her, his eyes honest and his voice truthful. "I do. I love you."

Natasha shakes her head. "Bruce..", she goes to say – even though she knows Bruce isn't expecting an answer – but Tony unknowingly cuts her off.

"Okay then, Doc.", Tony say. "Lets go steal a body."

* * *

They walk out of the elevator quickly, dressed in hospital scrubs and pushing a gurney through the hallway to where Natasha's room was.

"I'm really grateful, Tony.", Bruce says as they make their way down the hallway. "Both of us are."

Tony's quick to reply. "I'm not doing it for you."

"Then why are you doing it?", Bruce asks.

"Because someday – trust me – I'm gonna need help moving a body, and when that day comes I don't wanna hear any shit from you.", Tony says and Bruce can't figure out if he's joking or not, so he lets the subject go.

"Make a turn there.", he says and Tony complies. Soon enough, they enter Natasha's room quickly to find her lifeless body lying on the bed, still attached to the machines around her that are the only things keeping her alive – other than probably her own stubbornness, Bruce thinks. Natasha would agree.

"Okay.", Natasha says as Bruce pushes the gurney next to her bed, him and Tony both going on either side of the bed. "Get me on the gurney, quick.", she continues, looking around on high alert for any indication of someone coming.

"Oh my God.", Tony says, pausing still as he finally gets a look at who the woman was lying on the bed, a breathing tube sticking out of her mouth that was attached to the ventilators making sure she was getting oxygen in order for her system to function normally, keeping her alive. "Bruce.", he calls for his friend.

"I know, she's pretty, right?", Bruce says, not really paying attention to Tony but more worried on how he was going to move Natasha's body without hurting her.

Natasha smiles. "That's really sweet, Bruce, but we've got to go. Someone could walk in at any minute."

"No, that's not it.", Tony says in reply to Bruce's previous statement. "This is her.", Tony exclaims. "This is her, this is the woman Steve and I set you up with. This is the woman you stood up that night.", he accuses Bruce.

"I was supposed to meet Natasha?", Bruce asks, not believing what he just heard. How was this possible?

"And she didn't make it either because she was hurt on a mission.", Tony adds, recalling an especially painful conversation he had on the phone with Steve a few days after the date was supposed to take place. He called to apologize for Bruce, but after hearing the news he wished the woman a quick recovery and that Steve should call him if he needed anything. He never realized it was this serious, or that they would put her into an actual hospital under a fake name instead of one of the S.H.I.E.L.D. facilities, but who was he to judge?

"It was you.", Bruce says, looking at Natasha whose face mirrored Bruce's look of surprise. "Is that it? Is that why I can see you?"

Natasha looks down, her brows furrowing. "I was supposed to meet you.", she says, her voice barely louder than a whisper before looking back up. She was right; he was her unfinished business.

Bruce turns to Tony again. "Wait, how did you know her?"

"Through Steve Rogers – you know, Captain America. He came by the Tower a few times, you know him.", Tony explains. "Tall, blond, broad shoulders, makes even Pepper giggle. An extremely strong sense of patriotism – which is not surprising considering his alias.", Tony says, and Bruce nods, remembering Steve. "He works with her and Barton at S.H.I.E.L.D.."

"Clint?"

"Yeah, Hawkeye.", Tony confirms. "You've never met him, though."

Bruce shakes his head. "Oh, I have.", he mumbles but Tony doesn't catch his statement.

Realization finally falls upon Natasha's face. "Tony Stark. I thought I knew that son of a bitch from somewhere."

Bruce's eyes widen. "She does not like you. At all."

"Yeah, tell me about it.", Tony agrees.

"You were really spot on when I told you you'd need a man with no morals.", she says and Bruce laughs.

Tony looks at him with confusion. "What, why are you laughing? Bruce?", he asks. "Is she making fun of me?"

Bruce quickly composes himself. "She didn't."

"Liar.", Tony scolds him. "Romanoff's really there, isn't she?"

"That's what I've been telling you!"

"Well, lets then get her on the damn gurney."

Bruce nods, and they go to slowly pick up her body as they hear a sound by the door. "It's the doctor; the one that talked to Laura."

Bruce looks at her, confused. "He's here fifteen minutes early."

"I think he's coming in.", Tony adds quietly. Bruce leaves towards the door as Tony slowly continues moving Natasha's body from the bed to the gurney.

"How do I get him to leave?", Bruce whispers t Natasha who was walking closely behind him.

Natasha is quick to reply. "Just repeat everything I say, alright? Making up covers is what I do for a living.", she says and Bruce opens the door, quickly shutting it behind them. He comes face to face with the doctor, whose name tag reads Dr. Rushton.

"Dr. Rushton?", Bruce asks, extending a hand which the other man shakes.

"Tell him you're a doctor.", Natasha suggests and Bruce complies quickly. "You're a special consultant here to make a final evaluation before turning off the life support.", she finishes and Bruce repeats it all, word for word.

"I've had no verbal or written instructions for that.", Dr. Rushton says, not quick to believe Bruce's story.

"We need to run some tests.", Bruce adds.

"Who's 'we'?", the doctor asks.

Natasha is quick on her feet. "Tell him you're team's downstairs with a written order from the head doctor.", she says and when Bruce repeats that she nods confidently. "You've got it."

"This is the first I've heard of this. You wouldn't mind if I confirmed that?", the doctor asks and Bruce nods.

"No, go right ahead.", he says with more confidence which disappears after he sees the man take out a cellphone. He thought the doctor was going to leave, but now they're screwed.

"I'll just give him a call.", Dr. Rushton says and Bruce can feel his nervousness rising, so he does the first thing he can think of; he punches the doctor straight in the face, breaking his nose, and the man falls to the ground.

"Bruce!", Natasha yells. "What-"

"I'm not a convincing medical doctor.", Bruce offers as an excuse.

Tony then walks out of the room, pulling the gurney with Natasha's body on it with him. He takes a look at the barely conscious doctor on the floor. "Oh God, Bruce, the felonies just keep piling up.", he says. "I'm not paying for your lawyers."

"Lets go.", Bruce urges, ignoring Tony's statement as he notices Laura Barton fast approaching with a nurse by her side. He couldn't see Clint, but he figured that he was probably not far behind with the rest of fothe Barton family. The gang makes their way down the hallway quickly as Laura and the nurse approach the doctor who finally sat up, using one hand to try and stop the bleeding and calling security on his phone with the other.

Bruce, Tony and Natasha take a right turn toward the elevators. As soon as the doors open, a security guard steps out and goes to take the gurney from them. He manages to get a tight grip on it, but Tony takes the guard and pulls him back into the elevator, cornering him as the doors behind them close.

As Bruce grabs the gurney and they continue going down the hall, in the elevator Tony and the guard separate only to realize that the security guard has somehow managed to rip off Natasha's breathing tub from her body and was now holding it in his hand.

"Oh, shit.", Tony says, rubbing his face with his hand tiredly.

Bruce makes his way down to the center of the lobby, only to find himself trapped in a dead end as there are guards coming in from every possible entrance.

"Stop right there! Stop! Hold it!", are the only words that are surrounding him and Bruce stops, not knowing what to do or where to go.

"Bruce?"

"Natasha."

They're looking at each other, one on each side of the gurney. They're trapped, and they know it, both being unable to do anything to get out of this situation. Natasha takes a look at her body lying on the gurney only to realize that something was wrong. "Bruce, my breathing tube is gone.", she says worriedly.

This is it. This is how it ends.

"No!", Bruce yells out. "There's got to b something I can do, Natasha."

"It's too late.", Natasha says and she can feel tears coming to her eyes. Natasha rarely cried, but she though this was an appropriate time for that reaction. "It's happening.", she says and Bruce can see her start to fade, becoming almost transparent. "It's strong."

"Be stronger.", he replies, both to her and to himself; she had to be stronger than the death that was pulling her away, and he tried to be stronger than the Other Guy who was desperate to take over as Bruce blood pressure began to rise.

"It's pulling me away.", she says. Natasha noticed his worry. "Don't turn green."

"I won't.", he replies quickly. "I've got a compelling reason not to lose my cool.", he says truthfully.

Natasha manages a smile, but her eyes hold immense pain. Bruce can also see love in her features, and he hopes it's not just his eyes playing tricks on him, not now. "I adore you.", she says, and Bruce can feel his heart ache. He can't love her, not now. Not when they were so close. She can't die; she can't.

The heart monitor flat-lines, and it's piercing sound fills the room.

"Stay with me.", Bruce says, and does the first thing that came naturally to him, knowing that this might be his only and last chance to ever do this.

In the last moments of her life, Bruce Banner kisses Natasha Romanoff.

Natasha can feel the kiss on her lips and she moves her hand to touch them, gasping at the feeling.

Her body on the gurney inhales a deep breath. Bruce's breath.

Suddenly, he's pulled away by a number of strong hands. He sees that one of them belong to Clint Barton, who caught up with the entire situation in the last few minutes. His face is twisted in anger, but he manages to hold back from punching the doctor and instead asks for a sedative, recognizing Banner and the beast he could become. But, although Bruce was sure that his eyes were probably already green, he knew he wouldn't turn now. It was as if the Hulk understood the loss he just faced.

"Natasha..", he calls out, but his calls remain unanswered.

Suddenly, as the room turns quiet, the piercing sound of the heart monitor stops and is replaced with the sound of the heart beating. Everyone turns towards Natasha's body, and Bruce manages to get himself out of security's grasp.

"What's going on?", Laura Barton asks as her husband comes to stand next to her, not believing his eyes as well.

"That's not possible.", Dr. Rushton speaks up. "It's not possible."

Natasha starts coughing and Laura and Clint quickly come to her side. "Nat?"

"Nat, can you hear us?"; Clint asks, but she doesn't reply, instead only opening her eyes. "Jesus Christ, Natasha, we thought you were dead.", Natasha manages a smirk, although still not sure about what's going on.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, Barton.", she replies, her voice hoarse from disuse and the breathing tube.

Bruce is careful as he approaches Natasha, but Laura looks first at her husband and then at the scientist before nodding. "It's okay.", she says through tears of joy in her eyes and Bruce becomes more confident in his steps, even if he was still wary of Clint.

Bruce approaches Natasha and looks at her, a small smile forming on his face and relief flooding his features. "Hey.", he says, but Natasha doesn't reply. "It's me."

There is still no recognition on Natasha's face. "I'm sorry.", she says, her voice still sore. "I don't-"

Laura speaks up. "Nat, it's Bruce.", she says. "Do you remember Bruce?", Natasha looks from Laura back to Bruce, but her expression doesn't change.

"The apartment?", Bruce says, trying to jog her memory. "The attic? Ballet studio?", his voice is desperate. "Nothing?", he asks painfully and goes to touch her hand. Natasha pulls it away.

She didn't remember him. She didn't remember him at all.

Bruce slowly starts backing away before he turns around and heads down the hallway. With one final look back at Natasha, he turns the corner and goes to leave the hospital.

Natasha doesn't now who he is.

That thought hurts him more than anything ever has.


	10. Chapter 10

Bruce found himself sitting on a park bench early in the afternoon. He didn't know why he felt a sudden pull towards the park or the bench – or why he even left the apartment, anyway, when he was perfectly content just lying on the couch for the rest of his days – but it ended up being the same bench where he sat with Natasha (well, Natasha's ghost to be more precise, and a ghost can't really truly sit, but they sat right there, on the bench which he is occupying now) all that time ago.

He shoves his hands into his jacket pockets and simply looks around, trying to take in the calming feeling surrounding him, even though he actually feels like he could Hulk out at any moment. Bruce turns to doing some of his breathing exercises to avoid an accident when his phone rings, disturbing him.

The caller ID reads _Pepper Potts_. If anything, Bruce is just glad it's not Tony.

"Banner.", he answers formally, hoping Pepper would keep the conversation short.

"Hey, Bruce.", Bruce can hear the light smile in her voice that's probably meant to be comforting and reassuring, but instead makes him feel none of those things. Pepper's voice remains light – although he can hear that it is slightly strained, but she's trying – and she does please his silent wishes by getting right down to the point. "I talked to the building manager and they said that Natasha would be moving back in.", she says and Bruce lightly flinches, closing his eyes. He's glad Pepper can't see him. "Since this was a sub-lease deal, they're expecting you out as soon as possible. I can ask them for a week – maybe two – but.."

"No, Pepper, it's okay.", Bruce is quick to reply, cutting her off. "Really. I don't have that much stuff anyway."

He can almost hear Pepper nod. "Do you want me to schedule movers for tomorrow? Just to get it over with quickly. They'll bring your stuff here to the Tower."

"Yeah, sure.", he replies, not even thinking about it. "That'd be great. Thank you, Pepper."

"You're welcome.", she pauses. Bruce has a feeling he knows what's coming. "Look, Bruce.. Tony told me what happened and I just want to say that we're here for you, okay? Always." And he was right. A part of him wishes he wasn't so cynical about it, but that seems to be the only emotion he is currently capable of.

"Thanks.", he replies quickly. "I appreciate it. Really, I do."

They exchange a few more words and end the call, after which Bruce slumps back into the wooden park chair and exhales loudly.

The Hulk feels like smashing something. Instead, Bruce settles his mind on another project.

And – against all better judgement – he picks up his phone and dials Tony's number. He's about sixty-eight percent certain he'll regret it sometime in the future.

* * *

"Look, Nat, Fury's right. You shouldn't be going back in so soon.", Clint says as they're all settled around the table in the Barton farmhouse. The dining room was the most recent of Clint's projects which he was incredibly proud of, so the usual dining area (which was the kitchen) was now moved here.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Steve left ten messages about that already.", she says. "I didn't even know he learned how to use a damn phone properly."

"And they're all right.", Clint quickly replies. "You just got out of the hospital, Nat, and we'd hate to see you go back in."

"I can handle myself."

Laura chimes in. "We're not doubting that for a second.", she says. "Look, Clint,", she turns to her husband, "ultimately this is her choice and her choice alone. If she thinks she's ready to get back to work, she's well allowed to do that.", Laura says and Natasha smiles a thank you as Clint sighs in defeat. "And when she comes back moaning about how she should've stayed on sabbatical longer, we'll get the opportunity to gloat. Might even get in an 'I told you so'. Oh, how I know you love those."

Natasha and Clint's facial expressions are suddenly changed, with Natasha showing irritation (albeit obviously exaggerated and all in good nature) and Clint has a self-satisfied smile gracing his features.

Laura switches the conversation. "So, are you moving back into the apartment tomorrow? I'll call the movers if you'd like to pick up some of the stuff I moved from your apartment here while you were at the hospital."

Natasha nods, smiling. "Thank you, but I already called and arranged everything, don't worry."

"Never have.", Laura says, narrowing her eyes. "And I'm not surprised one bit that you've already got it all under control.", she adds. Laura then turns to Clint. "She's ready."

"If you say so, ma'am.", Clint replies, kissing a laughing Laura on the lips. Natasha feels a tightening in her chest as if she's missing something, but brushes it off. That became a reoccurring feeling ever since she woke up from the coma, and she couldn't quite figure out why she was feeling so – nostalgic? - all of a sudden. It's as if there was something in the back of her mind that she couldn't bring up, like a locked door that she couldn't seem to open, even with her skill-set.

Also, her mind kept going back to Bruce – the man at the hospital that seemed extremely disappointed when she couldn't remember him. Of course, being the spy that she is, she did research on him the second she came home, but even then she couldn't seem to figure out the reasons for him being there. He wasn't a medical doctor – holding a doctorate in physics – and she was more than positive that she has never met him, even if she was assigned to the Harlem disaster. And, even though Bruce Banner was on record as an employee of S.H.I.E.L.D., they've never crossed paths.

The Bartons also didn't seem to chatty about the situation, so Natasha was left to her own devices. She hoped that maybe tomorrow, once she is back at her own apartment (not that she ever spent too much time there, but it was some kind of home) that things would become a bit clearer.

If only she could make that door open.

* * *

She unlocks the doors to the apartment with the key in her hand and walks in, taking in her place of living that she hasn't visited for almost half a year. She allows herself a few moments to take it all in, before the movers catch up with her. She didn't have a lot of things, so this was the only time the few of the men from the company would be making their way up – something for which Natasha was extremely grateful for.

"Just leave the boxes where there's room, and I'll sort it out later."

The men nod. "Sure thing, Ms. Rushman.", he says. Once the boxes were all delivered, he ushered his men out, Natasha closing the door as they left.

Natasha walked around the apartment, keeping a careful eye on her surroundings. She was aware that Laura and Clint sub-let the apartment, so she wanted to know if whoever was staying there while she was in the hospital changed anything, or maybe forgot something in the move. Natasha enjoyed knowing very detail in her surroundings, something that was an after-effect of her training and that would bring her peace knowing that she was in a safe and controlled environment that she was the boss of, so to speak.

She was halfway through the hallway when she heard something move on the upper floor – the attic. She was surprised to find the attic doors open as she made her way up the small stairwell, and she definitely wasn't prepared for what awaited her there.

The attic was turned into a small privet ballet studio. The floor was covered in smooth vinyl, and Natasha guessed that it was possibly sprung as well, to absorb the impact of an aggressive exercise. There were a few movable barres spread around the room – the _studio_ – that were waist-length and perfect for ballet. One wall was completely covered in mirrors, which now reflected the beautiful view given by the windows opposite of it. There was even a stereo all set up, with a shelf of CDs filled with different kinds of music – mostly classical.

Natasha's breath caught in her throat, and if she wasn't a spy, she would've missed the light footsteps showing that there was someone else already in the room. She turned around on her heels quickly, only to see a man – Bruce – looking back at her with a sheepish smile, his hands raised as if he was surrendering.

"Hi.", he greets her and she can hear the nervousness in his voice. "I'm sorry, I just.. wanted you to have your ballet studio.", he says. "Make better memories."

She wondered how he knew that – how he knew that she wanted the attic turned into a ballet studio. She didn't even tell that to Laura (and especially not to Clint, because knowing him he'd make that his new project and she couldn't promise she wouldn't physically wound him after months of him trying to redecorate it – very loudly). Natasha wanted the ballet studio so that she could take the memories of the Red Room and get control of them. Make them what she wanted. So that she could turn the horrid nightmares into beautiful dreams. Because she did love ballet, even as a smile child before the KGB got to her, and she didn't want to let them have that anymore.

"How did you get up here?", she asks him after enough moments of silence had passed.

Bruce shrugs. "Spare key.", he says. "Under the fire extinguisher.", he adds quickly, elaborating.

Natasha nods, although the slightly confused look on her face doesn't leave her features. She knows the man is not a threat, but she doesn't know what to make out of his obvious extensive knowledge about her apartment – especially about stuff that he definitely couldn't have picked up by simply living here.

"The last thing I want to do is make this situation more awkward, so I'm just going to leave.", he says, nodding towards the door. "Bye, Natasha."

The door in her mind suddenly seem to become less complicated to open, but they still hardly move an inch. "Wait.", she says. Bruce, who was almost at the door, turns around.

"Yeah?", the tone of his voice can be described as almost hopeful, even though she can't seem to figure out what he's hoping for.

"Key.", she says. "I'll need the spare key back.", she says, although to Bruce it seems like her thoughts are somewhere else. They're back at the door in her mind, trying to get them to unlock.

"Oh, right.", Bruce nods, heading over and taking the key out of is pocket.

Natasha still keeps looking at him carefully, studying his every feature. "How do I know you?", she whispers, so softly he almost doesn't catch it.

"Maybe from your dreams.", he says, almost cringing at the cheesiness of the line. He puts out his hand with the key in it, and Natasha puts her own hand over his, capturing it. Suddenly, it's as if her hands had a mind of its own – as if it were some kind of muscle memory acting – and she slowly pulls her hand across it, gently tapping it at the end.

Her eyes widen, and the door in her mind bursts open, revealing months worth of memories all seeping out at once.

 _Him at her apartment. **"Ever heard of a coaster?"**_

 _ **"Jesus Christ!" "I prefer**_ **Natasha** _ **."** Her being dead. Or not-dead. Or something in-between._

 _This same attic before it was a ballet studio. Them, together, looking through the windows at the most amazing view they've ever seen. **"The sun's getting real low."**_

 _The Bartons. Decision to cut the life support. Butchering knife? Them, standing outside by the car. **"I think I would've liked to be a mom."** , her statement. **"You'd make a good one."** , his answer._

 _Them, lying on her bed, looking at each other. Her last night. **"I think I know what my unfinished business is."** , she said. **"What?"** , he asked. **"You."** , she replied, more certain than she has ever been in her life._

 _ **"Because I love her!"** , his confession._

 _ **"I adore you."** , her goodbye._

Natasha blinks away the memories and looks up at Bruce, her eyes watering and their hands still connected. "It wasn't a dream.", it's more of a statement than a question but Bruce answers, anyway.

"No.", he says, a small smile on his face. Hope in his eyes.

Then, everything falls into place. Everything makes sense and she remembers him – she remembers it all – and the feelings come over her like a flood and she pulls him by the hand and kisses him, letting everything go into the kiss, every feeling she's feeling, every memory, every second. She loves him, and as his hands go to her waist and her hands entangle in his hair, as she can feel the little smile that comes to his face while they kiss and as well as she knows that he is trying as hard as he can to keep his heartbeat under control, she knows that he loves her, too.

They pull apart when they're both desperate to breathe but neither look away from each other's eyes, Bruce's hand going to gently cup her cheek.

" _Bruce_..", her voice is soft and she can't believe all that has happened, the weird path that life gave them.

Bruce nods, his smile widening. "It's me, Natasha. It's me.", he says and she smiles back, pulling him back into a kiss and putting her arms around him.

They saved each other.

And they got so much more in return.

* * *

 **THE END.**


End file.
